UC-NRLF 


B    3    Shi    TOO 


Bhw 


y 


BI 


Shadowings 


SHADOWINGS 


BY  LAFCADIO  HEARN 

LECTURER    ON    ENGLISH    LITERATURE    IN 
THE  IMPERIAL  UNIVERSITY,  TOKYO,  JAPAN 

AUTHOR  OF  "EXOTICS  AND  RETROSPEC 
TIVES,"  "IN  GHOSTLY  JAPAN,"  ETC.,  ETC 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

1900 


V.  Library/  Univ.  Calif.,  Santa  CruiS 


Copyright,  7900, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 


All  rights  reserved 


Hntbersitg 

JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


Dctftcatton 

TO  PAYMASTER  MITCHELL  MCDONALD 

U.  S.  NAVY 

MY  DEAR  MITCHELL,  — 

Herein  I  have  made  some  attempt  to 
satisfy  your  wish  for  "  a  few  more  queer  stories 
from  the  Japanese"  Please  accept  the  hook  as 
another  token  of  the  writer's  affection. 

LAFCADIO  HEARN 

(Koizumi  Yakumo) 

TOKYO,  JAPAN 

January  i,  1900 


Contents 


STORIES  FROM  STRANGE  BOOKS: 

I.  THE  RECONCILIATION ^   ••..'';  5 

II.  A  LEGEND  OF  FUGEN-BOSATSU  .    .   .*.  .    .    .  15 

III.  THE  SCREEN-MAIDEN 23 

IV.  THE  CORPSE-RIDER 33 

V.  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  BENTEN 41 

VI.  THE  GRATITUDE  OF  THE  SAM£BITO    ....  57 

JAPANESE  STUDIES: 

I.  SEMI .    .    :    .  71 

II.  JAPANESE  FEMALE  NAMES 105 

III.  OLD  JAPANESE  SONGS 157 

FANTASIES: 

I.  NOCTILUCyE i     ....  197 

II.  A  MYSTERY  OF  CROWDS 203 

III.  GOTHIC  HORROR 213 

IV.  LEVITATION    ...   - 225 

V.  NIGHTMARE-TOUCH  ...,...«.'..  235 

VI.  READINGS  FROM  A  DREAM-BOOK 249 

VII.  IN  A  PAIR  OF  EYES 265 


Illustrations 


Facing  page 
PLATE  I     ......    ;"...,.,....     72 

1-2,  Young  Semi. 

3-4,  Haru-Zemi,  also  called  Nawashtro-Zhni. 

PLATE  II    .......  ".    /  .    .    .    .  ;V   .    .    76 

"  SMnne-Slnnne,"    also  called    Yama-Zemi,  and 


PLATE  III  ................    80 


PLATE  IV  ..........    .....    .    84 

1-2,  Mugikari-Zemi,  also  called  Gosbiki-Zemi. 

3,  HigurasU. 

4,  "  Min-Min-Zemi" 

PLATE  V  .........    .    ,,  .....    88 

1,  "Tsuku-tsuku-Bdsbi,"  also  called  "Kutsu-kuUu- 

BSshi"   etc.     (Cosmopsaltria  Opalifera  ?) 

2,  Tsurigane-Zemi. 

3,  The  Phantom. 


STORIES  FROM  STRANGE  BOOKS 


II  avait  vu  brQler  d' Granges  pierres, 
Jadis,  dans  les  brasiers  de  la  pens&  . . . 
EMILE  VERHAEREN 


The  Reconciliation1 


'The  original  story  is  to  be  found  in  the  curious  volume  entitled 
Konseki-Monogatari 


The  Reconciliation 


THERE  was  a  young  Samurai  of  Kyoto  who 
had  been  reduced  to  poverty  by  the  ruin 
of  his  lord,  and  found  himself  obliged  to 
leave  his  home,  and  to  take  service  with  the 
Governor  of  a  distant  province.  Before  quitting 
the  capital,  this  Samurai  divorced  his  wife,  —  a 
good  and  beautiful  woman,  —  under  the  belief 
that  he  could  better  obtain  promotion  by  another 
alliance.  He  then  married  the  daughter  of  a 
family  of  some  distinction,  and  took  her  with 
him  to  the  district  whither  he  had  been  called. 

But  it  was  in  the  time  of  the  thoughtlessness 
of  youth,  and  the  sharp  experience  of  want,  that 
the  Samurai  could  not  understand  the  worth  of 
the  affection  so  lightly  cast  away.  His  second 
marriage  did  not  prove  a  happy  one ;  the  charac 
ter  of  his  new  wife  was  hard  and  selfish ;  and  he 
5 


6  Shadowings 

soon  found  every  cause  to  think  with  regret  of 
Kyoto  days.  Then  he  discovered  that  he  still 
loved  his  first  wife  —  loved  her  more  than  he 
could  ever  love  the  second ;  and  he  began  to  feel 
how  unjust  and  how  thankless  he  had  been. 
Gradually  his  repentance  deepened  into  a  re 
morse  that  left  him  no  peace  of  mind.  Memories 
of  the  woman  he  had  wronged  —  her  gentle 
speech,  her  smiles,  her  dainty,  pretty  ways,  her 
faultless  patience  —  continually  haunted  him. 
Sometimes  in  dreams  he  saw  her  at  her  loom, 
weaving  as  when  she  toiled  night  and  day  to 
help  him  during  the  years  of  their  distress :  more 
often  he  saw  her  kneeling  alone  in  the  desolate 
little  room  where  he  had  left  her,  veiling  her 
tears  with  her  poor  worn  sleeve.  Even  in  the 
hours  of  official  duty,  his  thoughts  would  wander 
back  to  her :  then  he  would  ask  himself  how  she 
was  living,  what  she  was  doing.  Something  in 
his  heart  assured  him  that  she  could  not  accept 
another  husband,  and  that  she  never  would  refuse 
to  pardon  him.  And  he  secretly  resolved  to  seek 
her  out  as  soon  as  he  could  return  to  Kyoto,  — 
then  to  beg  her  forgiveness,  to  take  her  back,  to 
do  everything  that  a  man  could  do  to  make 
atonement.  But  the  years  went  by. 


The  Reconciliation  7 

At  last  the  Governor's  official  term  expired, 
and  the  Samurai  was  free.  "  Now  I  will  go  back 
to  my  dear  one,"  he  vowed  to  himself.  "  Ah, 
what  a  cruelty,  —  what  a  folly  to  have  divorced 
her ! "  He  sent  his  second  wife  to  her  own 
people  (she  had  given  him  no  children);  and 
hurrying  to  Kyoto,  he  went  at  once  to  seek  his 
former  companion,  —  not  allowing  himself  even 
the  time  to  change  his  travelling-garb. 

When  he  reached  the  street  where  she  used  to 
live,  it  was  late  in  the  night,  —  the  night  of  the 
tenth  day  of  the  ninth  month;  —  and  the  city 
was  silent  as  a  cemetery.  But  a  bright  moon 
made  everything  visible ;  and  he  found  the  house 
without  difficulty.  It  had  a  deserted  look:  tall 
weeds  were  growing  on  the  roof.  He  knocked 
at  the  sliding-doors,  and  no  one  answered.  Then, 
finding  that  the  doors  had  not  been  fastened  from 
within,  he  pushed  them  open,  and  entered.  The 
front  room  was  matless  and  empty:  a  chilly  wind 
was  blowing  through  crevices  in  the  planking; 
and  the  moon  shone  through  a  ragged  break  in 
the  wall  of  the  alcove.  Other  rooms  presented 
a  like  forlorn  condition.  The  house,  to  all  seem 
ing,  was  unoccupied.  Nevertheless,  the  Samurai 


8  Shadowings 

determined  to  visit  one  other  apartment  at  the 
further  end  of  the  dwelling,  —  a  very  small  room 
that  had  been  his  wife's  favorite  resting-place. 
Approaching  the  sliding-screen  that  closed  it,  he 
was  startled  to  perceive  a  glow  within.  He 
pushed  the  screen  aside,  and  uttered  a  cry  of 
joy ;  for  he  saw  her  there,  —  sewing  by  the  light 
of  a  paper-lamp.  Her  eyes  at  the  same  instant 
met  his  own ;  and  with  a  happy  smile  she  greeted 
him,  — asking  only:— "When  did  you  come 
back  to  Kyoto?  How  did  you  find  your  way 
here  to  me,  through  all  those  black  rooms  ? " 
The  years  had  not  changed  her.  Still  she  seemed 
as  fair  and  young  as  in  his  fondest  memory  of 
her ;  —  but  sweeter  than  any  memory  there  came 
to  him  the  music  of  her  voice,  with  its  trembling 
of  pleased  wonder. 

Then  joyfully  he  took  his  place  beside  her, 
and  told  her  all :  —  how  deeply  he  repented  his 
selfishness,  —  how  wretched  he  had  been  without 
her,  — how  constantly  he  had  regretted  her,— 
how  long  he  had  hoped  and  planned  to  make 
amends; — caressing  her  the  while,  and  asking 
her  forgiveness  over  and  over  again.  She  an 
swered  him,  with  loving  gentleness,  according  to 
his  heart's  desire,  —  entreating  him  to  cease  all 


The  Reconciliation  9 

self-reproach.  It  was  wrong,  she  said,  that  he 
should  have  allowed  himself  to  suffer  on  her  ac 
count:  she  had  always  felt  that  she  was  not 
worthy  to  be  his  wife.  She  knew  that  he  had 
separated  from  her,  notwithstanding,  only  be 
cause  of  poverty ;  and  while  he  lived  with  her, 
he  had  always  been  kind;  and  she  had  never 
ceased  to  pray  for  his  happiness.  But  even  if 
there  had  been  a  reason  for  speaking  of  amends, 
this  honorable  visit  would  be  ample  amends ;  — 
what  greater  happiness  than  thus  to  see  him 
again,  though  it  were  only  for  a  moment? 
"  Only  for  a  moment !  "  he  answered,  with  a 
glad  laugh,  —  "say,  rather,  for  the  time  of 
seven  existences!  My  loved  one,  unless  you 
forbid,  I  am  coming  back  to  live  with  you  al 
ways —  always  —  always!  Nothing  shall  ever 
separate  us  again.  Now  I  have  means  and 
friends:  we  need  not  fear  poverty.  To-mor 
row  my  goods  will  be  brought  here;  and  my 
servants  will  come  to  wait  upon  you;  and  we 
shall  make  this  house  beautiful.  .  .  .  To-night," 
he  added,  apologetically,  "  I  came  thus  late  — 
without  even  changing  my  dress  —  only  because 
of  the  longing  I  had  to  see  you,  and  to  tell  you 
this."  She  seemed  greatly  pleased  by  these 


10  Shadowings 

words;  and  in  her  turn  she  told  him  about  all 
that  had  happened  in  Kyoto  since  the  time  of 
his  departure,  —  excepting  her  own  sorrows,  of 
which  she  sweetly  refused  to  speak.  They 
chatted  far  into  the  night:  then  she  conducted 
him  to  a  warmer  room,  facing  south,  —  a  room 
that  had  been  their  bridal  chamber  in  former 
time.  "  Have  you  no  one  in  the  house  to  help 
you  ? "  he  asked,  as  she  began  to  prepare  the 
couch  for  him.  "No,"  she  answered,  laughing 
cheerfully :  "  I  could  not  afford  a  servant ;  —  so 
I  have  been  living  all  alone."  "You  will  have 
plenty  of  servants  to-morrow,"  he  said,  —  "  good 
servants, — and  everything  else  that  you  need." 
They  lay  down  to  rest,  —  not  to  sleep :  they  had 
too  much  to  tell  each  other;  —  and  they  talked 
of  the  past  and  the  present  and  the  future,  until 
the  dawn  was  grey.  Then,  involuntarily,  the 
Samurai  closed  his  eyes,  and  slept. 

When  he  awoke,  the  daylight  was  streaming 
through  the  chinks  of  the  sliding-shutters ;  and 
he  found  himself,  to  his  utter  amazement,  lying 
upon  the  naked  boards  of  a  mouldering  floor. 
.  .  .  Had  he  only  dreamed  a  dream?  No: 
she  was  there ;  —  she  slept.  ...  He  bent  above 


The  Reconciliation  11 

her,  —  and  looked,  —  and  shrieked  ;  —  for  the 
sleeper  had  no  face !  .  .  Before  him,  wrapped  in 
its  grave-sheet  only,  lay  the  corpse  of  a  woman, 
—  a  corpse  so  wasted  that  little  remained  save  the 
bones,  and  the  long  black  tangled  hair. 


Slowly,  —  as  he  stood  shuddering  and  sicken 
ing  in  the  sun,  —the  icy  horror  yielded  to  a  des 
pair  so  intolerable,  a  pain  so  atrocious,  that  he 
clutched  at  the  mocking  shadow  of  a  doubt. 
Feigning  ignorance  of  the  neighborhood,  he 
ventured  to  ask  his  way  to  the  house  in 
which  his  wife  had  lived. 

"  There  is  no  one  in  that  house,"  said  the  per 
son  questioned.  "  It  used  to  belong  to  the  wife 
of  a  Samurai  who  left  the  city  several  years  ago. 
He  divorced  her  in  order  to  marry  another 
woman  before  he  went  away;  and  she  fretted 
a  great  deal,  and  so  became  sick.  She  had  no 
relatives  in  Kyoto,  and  nobody  to  care  for  her ; 
and  she  died  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  — 
on  the  tenth  day  of  the  ninth  month.  .  ." 


A  Legend  of  Fugen-Bosatsu1 


*  From  the  old  story-book,  Jikkutt-sbo 


A  Legend  of  Fugen-Bosatsu 


THERE  was  once  a  very  pious  and  learned 
priest,  called  Shoku  Shonin,  who  lived  in 
the  province  of  Harima.    For  many  years 
he  meditated  daily  upon  the  chapter  of  Fugen- 
Bosatsu  [the  Bodhisattva  Samantabhadra]  in  the 
Sutra  of  the  Lotos  of  the  Good  Law ;  and  he 
used  to  pray,  every  morning  and  evening,  that 
he  might  at  some  time  be  permitted  to  behold 
Fugen-Bosatsu  as  a  living  presence,  and  in  the 
form  described  in  the  holy  text.1 


1  The  priest's  desire  was  probably  inspired  by  the 
promises  recorded  in  the  chapter  entitled  "  The  Encourage 
ment  of  Samantabhadra"  (see  Kern's  translation  of  the 
Saddharma  Pundarika  in  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  — 
pp.  433-434) :_«  Then  the  Bodhisattva  Mahasattva  Saman 
tabhadra  said  to  the  Lord:  .  .  .  'When  a  preacher  who 
applies  himself  to  this  DharmaparySya  shall  take  a  walk, 
then,  O  Lord,  will  I  mount  a  white  elephant  with  six  tusks, 
and  betake  myself  to  the  place  where  that  preacher  is 
walking,  in  order  to  protect  this  Dharmaparyaya.  And 

15 


16  Shadowings 

One  evening,  while  he  was  reciting  the  Sutra, 
drowsiness  overcame  him;  and  he  fell  asleep 
leaning  upon  his  kyosoku.1  Then  he  dreamed; 
and  in  his  dream  a  voice  told  him  that,  in  order 
to  see  Fugen-Bosatsu,  he  must  go  to  the  house 
of  a  certain  courtesan,  known  as  the  "  Yujo-no- 
Choja,"2  who  lived  in  the  town  of  Kanzaki. 
Immediately  upon  awakening  he  resolved  to  go 
to  Kanzaki ;  —  and,  making  all  possible  haste,  he 
reached  the  town  by  the  evening  of  the  next 
day. 

When  he  entered  the  house  of  the  yujo,  he 
found  many  persons  already  there  assembled  — 
mostly  young  men  of  the  capital,  who  had  been 
attracted  to  Kanzaki  by  the  fame  of  the  woman's 


when  that  preacher,  applying  himself  to  this  Dharma- 
parya*ya,  forgets,  be  it  but  a  single  word  or  syllable,  then 
will  I  mount  the  white  elephant  .with  six  tusks,  and  show 
my  face  to  that  preacher,  and  repeat  this  entire  Dharma- 
parySya." —  But  these  promises  refer  to  "the  end  of 
time." 

1  The  Kyosoku  is  a  kind  of  padded  arm-rest,  or  arm- 
stool,  upon  which  the  priest  leans  one  arm  while  reading. 
The  use  of  such  an  arm-rest  is  not  confined,  however,  to 
the  Buddhist  clergy. 

2  A  yuj8,  in  old  days,  was  a  singing-girl  as  well  as  a 
courtesan.     The   term   "Yujo-no-Choja,"    in   this  case, 
would  mean  simply  "the  first  (or  best)  of  yujo." 


A  Legend  of  Fugen-Bosatsu     17 

beauty.  They  were  feasting  and  drinking ;  and 
the  yujo  was  playing  a  small  hand-drum  (tsu- 
%umi\  which  she  used  very  skilfully,  and  sing 
ing  a  song.  The  song  which  she  sang  was  an 
old  Japanese  song  about  a  famous  shrine  in 
the  town  of  Murozumi;  and  the  words  were 
these :  — 

WitUn  the  sacred  water -tank l  of  Murozumi  in 

Suwo, 

Even  though  no  wind  be  blowing, 
The  surface  of  the  water  is  always  rippling. 

The  sweetness  of  the  voice  filled  everybody 
with  surprise  and  delight.  As  the  priest,  who 
had  taken  a  place  apart,  listened  and  wondered, 
the  girl  suddenly  fixed  her  eyes  upon  him ;  and 
in  the  same  instant  he  saw  her  form  change  into 
the  form  of  Fugen-Bosatsu,  emitting  from  her 
brow  a  beam  of  light  that  seemed  to  pierce  be- 
yond  the  limits  of  the  universe,  and  riding  a 
snow-white  elephant  with  six  tusks.  And  still 


1  Mitarai.  Mitarai  (or  mitarasht)  is  the  name  especially 
given  to  the  water-tanks,  or  water-fonts  —  of  stone  or 
bronze— placed  before  Shinto  shrines  in  order  that  the 
worshipper  may  purify  his  lips  and  hands  before  making 
prayer.  Buddhist  tanks  are  not  so  named. 
2 


18  Shadowings 

she  sang  —  but  the  song  also  was  now  trans 
formed;  and  the  words  came  thus  to  the  ears 
of  the  priest:  — 

On  the  Vast  Sea  of  Cessation, 

Though  the  Winds  of  the  Six  Desires  and  of  the 

Five  Corruptions  never  blow. 
Yet  the  surface  of  that  deep  is  always  covered 
With  the  billowings  of  Attainment  to  the  Real- 

ity-in-Itself. 

Dazzled  by  the  divine  ray,  the  priest  closed 
his  eyes :  but  through  their  lids  he  still  distinctly 
saw  the  vision.  When  he  opened  them  again,  it 
was  gone :  he  saw  only  the  girl  with  her  hand- 
drum,  and  heard  only  the  song  about  the  water 
of  Murozumi.  But  he  found  that  as  often  as 
he  shut  his  eyes  he  could  see  Fugen-Bosatsu 
on  the  six-tusked  elephant,  and  could  hear  the 
mystic  Song  of  the  Sea  of  Cessation.  The  other 
persons  present  saw  only  the  yujo :  they  had  not 
beheld  the  manifestation. 

Then  the  singer  suddenly  disappeared  from 
the  banquet-room  —  none  could  say  when  or 
how.  From  that  moment  the  revelry  ceased; 
and  gloom  took  the  place  of  joy.  After  having 
waited  and  sought  for  the  girl  to  no  purpose, 


A  Legend  of  Fugen-Bosatsu     19 

the  company  dispersed  in  great  sorrow.  Last 
of  all,  the  priest  departed,  bewildered  by  the 
emotions  of  the  evening.  But  scarcely  had  he 
passed  beyond  the  gate,  when  the  yujo  appeared 
before  him,  and  said :  — "  Friend,  do  not  speak 
yet  to  any  one  of  what  you  have  seen  this 
night."  And  with  these  words  she  vanished 
away,  —  leaving  the  air  filled  with  a  delicious 
fragrance. 

* 


# 


The  monk  by  whom  the  foregoing  legend  was 
recorded,  comments  upon  it  thus :  —  The  condi 
tion  of  a  yujo  is  low  and  miserable,  since  she  is 
condemned  to  serve  the  lusts  of  men.  Who 
therefore  could  imagine  that  such  a  woman 
might  be  the  nirmanakaya,  or  incarnation,  of 
a  Bodhisattva.  But  we  must  remember  that 
the  Buddhas  and  the  Bodhisattvas  may  appear 
in  this  world  in  countless  different  forms ;  choos 
ing,  for  the  purpose  of  their  divine  compassion, 
even  the  most  humble  or  contemptible  shapes 
when  such  shapes  can  serve  them  to  lead  men 
into  the  true  path,  and  to  save  them  from  the 
perils  of  illusion. 


The  Screen-Maiden1 


1  Related  in  the  Otogi-Hyaku-Monogatari 


The  Screen-Maiden 


SAYS  the  old  Japanese  author,  Hakubai-En 
Rosui  :  —  1 

"  In  Chinese  and  in  Japanese  books  there 
are  related  many  stories,  —  both  of  ancient  and 
of  modern  times,  —  about  pictures  that  were  so 
beautiful  as  to  exercise  a  magical  influence  upon 
the  beholder.  And  concerning  such  beautiful 
pictures,  —  whether  pictures  of  flowers  or  of  birds 
or  of  people,  painted  by  famous  artists,  —  it  is 
further  told  that  the  shapes  of  the  creatures  or 

i  He  died  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  Kyoho  (1733).  The 
painter  to  whom  he  refers  —  better  known  to  collectors  as 
Hishigawa  Kichibei  Moronobu  —  flourished  during  the 
latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Beginning  his 
career  as  a  dyer's  apprentice,  he  won  his  reputation  as  an 
artist  about  1680,  when  he  may  be  said  to  have  founded 
the  Ukiyo-ye  school  of  illustration.  Hishigawa  was  especially 
a  delineator  of  what  are  called  fffryU,  ("  elegant  manners  "), 
—  the  aspects  of  life  among  the  upper  classes  of  society. 

23 


24  Shadowings 

% 

the  persons,  therein  depicted,  would  separate 
themselves  from  the  paper  or  the  silk  upon  which 
they  had  been  painted,  and  would  perform  vari 
ous  acts ;  —  so  that  they  became,  by  their  own 
will,  really  alive.  We  shall  not  now  repeat  any 
of  the  stories  of  this  class  which  have  been  known 
to  everybody  from  ancient  times.  But  even  in 
modern  times  the  fame  of  the  pictures  painted 
by  Hishigawa  Kichibei  — '  Hishigawa's  Portraits ' 
—  has  become  widespread  in  the  land." 

He  then  proceeds  to  relate  the  following  story 
about  one  of  the  so-called  portraits :  — 

There  was  a  young  scholar  of  Kyoto  whose 
name  was  Tokkei.  He  used  to  live  in  the  street 
called  Muromachi.  One  evening,  while  on  his 
way  home  after  a  visit,  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  an  old  single-leaf  screen  (tsuitate) ,  exposed 
for  sale  before  the  shop  of  a  dealer  in  second 
hand  goods.  It  was  only  a  paper-covered  screen ; 
but  there  was  painted  upon  it  the  full-length 
figure  of  a  girl  which  caught  the  young  man's 
fancy.  The  price  asked  was  very  small :  Tokkei 
bought  the  screen,  and  took  it  home  with  him. 

When  he  looked  again  at  the  screen,  in  the 
solitude  of  his  own  room,  the  picture  seemed  to 


The  Screen-Maiden  25 

him  much  more  beautiful  than  before.  Appar 
ently  it  was  a  real  likeness,  —  the  portrait  of  a 
girl  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  old  ;  and  every  little 
detail  in  the  painting  of  the  hair,  eyes,  eyelashes, 
mouth,  had  been  executed  with  a  delicacy  and 
a  truth  beyond  praise.  The  manajiri1  seemed 
"like  a  lotos-blossom  courting  favor ";  the  lips 
were  "  like  the  smile  of  a  red  flower  " ;  the  whole 
young  face  was  inexpressibly  sweet.  If  the  real 
girl  so  portrayed  had  been  equally  lovely,  no  man 
could  have  looked  upon  her  without  losing  his 
heart.  And  Tokkei  believed  that  she  must  have 
been  thus  lovely ;  —  for  the  figure  seemed  alive, 
—  ready  to  reply  to  anybody  who  might  speak 
to  it. 

Gradually,  as  he  continued  to  gaze  at  the  pic 
ture,  he  felt  himself  bewitched  by  the  charm  of 
it.  "  Can  there  really  have  been  in  this  world," 
he  murmured  to  himself, "  so  delicious  a  creature  ? 
How  gladly  would  I  give  my  life  —  nay,  a  thou 
sand  years  of  life !  —  to  hold  her  in  my  arms 

1  Also  written  mejiri,  —  the  exterior  canthus  of  the  eye. 
The  Japanese  (like  the  old  Greek  and  the  old  Arabian  poets) 
have  many  curious  dainty  words  and  similes  to  express 
particular  beauties  of  the  hair,  eyes,  eyelids,  lips,  fingers, 
etc. 


26  Shadowings 

even  for  a  moment !  "  (The  Japanese  author 
says  "  for  a  few  seconds.")  In  short,  he  became 
enamoured  of  the  picture,  —  so  much  enamoured 
of  it  as  to  feel  that  he  never  could  love  any 
woman  except  the  person  whom  it  represented. 
Yet  that  person,  if  still  alive,  could  no  longer 
resemble  the  painting:  perhaps  she  had  been 
buried  long  before  he  was  born ! 

Day  by  day,  nevertheless,  this  hopeless  passion 
grew  upon  him.  He  could  not  eat ;  he  could  not 
sleep :  neither  could  he  occupy  his  mind  with 
those  studies  which  had  formerly  delighted  him. 
He  would  sit  for  hours  before  the  picture,  talking 
to  it,  —  neglecting  or  forgetting  everything  else. 
And  at  last  he  fell  sick  —  so  sick  that  he  believed 
himself  going  to  die. 

Now  among  the  friends  of  Tokkei  there  was 
one  venerable  scholar  who  knew  many  strange 
things  about  old  pictures  and  about  young  hearts. 
This  aged  scholar,  hearing  of  Tokkei's  illness, 
came  to  visit  him,  and  saw  the  screen,  and  under 
stood  what  had  happened.  Then  Tokkei,  being 
questioned,  confessed  everything  to  his  friend, 
and  declared :  —  "  If  I  cannot  find  such  a  woman, 
I  shall  die." 


The  Screen-Maiden  27 

The  old  man  said :  — 

"  That  picture  was  painted  by  Hishigawa 
Kichibei,  —  painted  from  life.  The  person  whom 
it  represented  is  not  now  in  the  world.  But  it  is 
said  that  Hishigawa  Kichibei  painted  her  mind  as 
well  as  her  form,  and  that  her  spirit  lives  in  the 
picture.  So  I  think  that  you  can  win  her." 

Tokkei  half  rose  from  his  bed,  and  stared 
eagerly  at  the  speaker. 

"You  must  give  her  a  name,"  the  old  man 
continued ;  —  "  and  you  must  sit  before  her  pic 
ture  every  day,  and  keep  your  thoughts  constantly 
fixed  upon  her,  and  call  her  gently  by  the  name 
which  you  have  given  her,  until  she  answers 
you.  .  .  ." 

"  Answers  me ! "  exclaimed  the  lover,  in 
breathless  amazement. 

"Oh,  yes,"  the  adviser  responded,  "she  will 
certainly  answer  you.  But  you  must  be  ready, 
when  she  answers  you,  to  present  her  with  what 
I  am  going  to  tell  you.  .  .  ." 

"  I  will  give  her  my  life !  "  cried  Tokkei. 

"  No,"  said  the  old  man ; —  "  you  will  present 
her  with  a  cup  of  wine  that  has  been  bought  at 
one  hundred  different  wine-shops.  Then  she  will 
come  out  of  the  screen  to  accept  the  wine.  After 


28  Shadowings 

that,  probably  she  herself  will  tell  you  what 
to  do." 

With  these  words  the  old  man  went  away. 
His  advice  aroused  Tokkei  from  despair.  At 
once  he  seated  himself  before  the  picture,  and 
called  it  by  the  name  of  a  girl  —  (what  name  the 
Japanese  narrator  has  forgotten  to  tell  us)  —  over 
and  over  again,  very  tenderly.  That  day  it 
made  no  answer,  nor  the  next  day,  nor  the  next. 
But  Tokkei  did  not  lose  faith  or  patience;  and 
after  many  days  it  suddenly  one  evening  an 
swered  to  its  name, — 

"Hail"  (Yes.) 

Then  quickly,  quickly,  some  of  the  wine  from 
a  hundred  different  wine -shops  was  poured  out, 
and  reverentially  presented  in  a  little  cup.  And 
the  girl  stepped  from  the  screen,  and  walked 
upon  the  matting  of  the  room,  and  knelt  to 
take  the  cup  from  Tokkei's  hand,  —  asking,  with 
a  delicious  smile :  — 

"  How  could  you  love  me  so  much  ? " 

Says  the  Japanese  narrator :  "  She  was  much 
more  beautiful  than  the  picture,  —  beautiful  to 
the  tips  of  her  finger-nails, — beautiful  also  in 
heart  and  temper,  —  lovelier  than  anybody  else 
in  the  world."  What  answer  Tokkei  made  to 


The  Screen-Maiden  29 

her  question  is  not  recorded :  it  will  have  to  be 
imagined. 

"  But  will  you  not  soon  get  tired  of  me?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Never  while  I  live ! "  he  protested. 

"And  after  —  ?"  she  persisted;  —  for  the 
Japanese  bride  is  not  satisfied  with  love  for  one 
life-time  only. 

"  Let  us  pledge  ourselves  to  each  other,"  he 
entreated,  "  for  the  time  of  seven  existences." 

"  If  you  are  ever  unkind  to  me,"  she  said,  "  I 
will  go  back  to  the  screen." 

They  pledged  each  other.  I  suppose  that 
Tokkei  was  a  good  boy,  —  for  his  bride  never 
returned  to  the  screen.  The  space  that  she  had 
occupied  upon  it  remained  a  blank. 

Exclaims  the  Japanese  author,  — 
"  How  very  seldom  do  such  things  happen  in 
this  world ! " 


The  Corpse-Rider1 
9 

1  From  the  Konseki-Monogatari 


The  Corpse-Rider 


THE  body  was  cold  as  ice;  the  heart  had 
long  ceased  to  beat:  yet  there  were  no 
other  signs  of  death.    Nobody  even  spoke 
of  burying  the  woman.    She  had  died  of  grief 
and  anger  at  having  been  divorced.    It  would 
have  been  useless  to  bury  her,  —  because  the  last 
undying  wish  of  a  dying  person  for  vengeance 
can  burst  asunder  any  tomb  and  rift  the  heaviest 
graveyard  stone.      People  who  lived  near  the 
house  in  which  she  was  lying  fled  from  their 
homes.    They  knew  that  she  was  only  waiting 
for  the  return  of  the  man  wbo  had  divorced  her. 
At  the  time  of  her  death  he  was  on  a  journey. 
When  he  came  back  and  was  told  what  had  hap 
pened,  terror  seized  him.    "  If  I  can  find  no  help 
before  dark,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "  she  will 
tear  me  to  pieces."    It  was  yet  only  the  Hour  of 
3  33 


34  Shadowings 

the  Dragon ;  *  but  he  knew  that  he  had  no  time 
to  lose. 

He  went  at  once  to  an  inyoshi?  and  begged  for 
succor.  The  inyoshi  knew  the  story  of  the  dead 
woman ;  and  he  had  seen  the  body.  He  said  to 
the  supplicant :  —  "A  very  great  danger  threatens 
you.  I  will  try  to  save  you.  But  you  must 
promise  to  do  whatever  I  shall  tell  you  to  do. 
There  is  only  one  way  by  which  you  can  be 
saved.  It  is  a  fearful  way.  But  unless  you  find 
the  courage  to  attempt  it,  she  will  tear  you  limb 
from  limb.  If  you  can  be  brave,  come  to  me 
again  in  the  evening  before  sunset."  The  man 
shuddered;  but  he  promised  to  do  whatever 
should  be  required  of  him. 

At  sunset  the  inyoshi  went  with  him  to  the 
house  where  the  body  was  lying.  The  inyoshi 
pushed  open  the  sliding-doors,  and  told  his  client 
to  enter.  It  was  rapidly  growing  dark.  "  I  dare 

1  Tatsu  no  Koku,  or  the  Hour  of  the  Dragon,  by  old 
Japanese  time,  began  at  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing. 

2  InyosU,  a  professor  or  master  of  the  science  of  in-yo, 
—the  old  Chinese  nature-philosophy,   based   upon   the 
theory  of  a  male  and  a  female  principle  pervading  the 
universe. 


The  Corpse-Rider  3? 

not ! "  gasped  the  man,  quaking  from  head  to 
foot ;  —  "I  dare  not  even  look  at  her !  "  "  You 
will  have  to  do  much  more  than  look  at  her," 
declared  the  inyosbi ;  —  "  and  you  promised  to 
obey.  Go  in!"  He  forced  the  trembler  into 
the  house  and  led  him  to  the  side  of  the  corpse. 

The  dead  woman  was  lying  on  her  face. 
"  Now  you  must  get  astride  upon  her,"  said  the 
inyosbi  t  "  and  sit  firmly  on  her  back,  as  if  you 
were  riding  a  horse.  .  .  .  Come!  —  you  must  do 
it ! "  The  man  shivered  so  that  the  inyosbi  had 
to  support  him  —  shivered  horribly;  but  he 
obeyed.  "  Now  take  her  hair  in  your  hands," 
commanded  the  inyosbi ,  —  "  half  in  the  right 
hand,  half  in  the  left.  ...  So !  ...  You  must 
grip  it  like  a  bridle.  Twist  your  hands  in  it  — 
both  hands  —  tightly.  That  is  the  way!  .  .  . 
Listen  to  me !  You  must  stay  like  that  till  morn 
ing.  You  will  have  reason  to  be  afraid  in  the 
night  —  plenty  of  reason.  But  whatever  may 
happen,  never  let  go  of  her  hair.  If  you  let  go, 
—  even  for  one  second,  —  she  will  tear  you  into 
gobbets ! " 

The  inyosbi  then  whispered  some  mysterious 
words  into  the  ear  of  the  body,  and  said  to  its 


36  Shadowings 

rider :  —  "  Now,  for  my  own  sake,  I  must  leave 
you  alone  with  her.  .  .  .  Remain  as  you  are ! 
.  .  .  Above  all  things,  remember  that  you  must 
not  let  go  of  her  hair."  And  he  went  away,— 
closing  the  doors  behind  him. 

Hour  after  hour  the  man  sat  upon  the  corpse  in 
black  fear ;  —  and  the  hush  of  the  night  deepened 
and  deepened  about  him  till  he  screamed  to  break 
it.  Instantly  the  body  sprang  beneath  him,  as  to 
cast  him  off;  and  the  dead  woman  cried  out 
loudly,  "  Oh,  how  heavy  it  is  !  Yet  I  shall  bring 
that  fellow  here  now !  " 

Then  tall  she  rose,  and  leaped  to  the  doors, 
and  flung  them  open,  and  rushed  into  the  night, 
—  always  bearing  the  weight  of  the  man.  But 
he,  shutting  his  eyes,  kept  his  hands  twisted 
in  her  long  hair,  —  tightly,  tightly,  —  though 
fearing  with  such  a  fear  that  he  could  not  even 
moan.  How  far  she  went,  he  never  knew. 
He  saw  nothing :  he  heard  only  the  sound  of 
her  naked  feet  in  the  dark,  —  picha-picha, 
picha-picba,  —  and  the  hiss  of  her  breathing  as 
she  ran. 

At  last  she  turned,  and  ran  back  into  the 
house,  and  lay  down  upon  the  floor  exactly  as 


The  Corpse-Rider  37 

at  first.  Under  the  man  she  panted  and  moaned 
till  the  cocks  began  to  crow.  Thereafter  she  lay 
still. 

But  the  man,  with  chattering  teeth,  sat  upon 
her  until  the  inydshi  came  at  sunrise.  "  So  you 
did  not  let  go  of  her  hair!  "  —  observed  the  in- 
yoshi,  greatly  pleased.  "  That  is  well  .  .  .  Now 
you  can  stand  up."  He  whispered  again  into  the 
ear  of  the  corpse,  and  then  said  to  the  man :  — 
"  You  must  have  passed  a  fearful  night ;  but 
nothing  else  could  have  saved  you.  Hereafter 
you  may  feel  secure  from  her  vengeance." 


* 
* 


The  conclusion  of  this  story  I  do  not  think  to 
be  morally  satisfying.  It  is  not  recorded  that  the 
corpse-rider  became  insane,  or  that  his  hair  turned 
white :  we  are  told  only  that  "  he  worshipped  the 
inydshi  with  tears  of  gratitude."  A  note  ap 
pended  to  the  recital  is  equally  disappointing. 
"  It  is  reported,"  the  Japanese  author  says, 
"  that  a  grandchild  of  the  man  [who  rode  the 
corpse]  still  survives,  and  that  a  grandson  of 
the  inydshi  is  at  this  very  time  living  in  a  vil- 


38  Shadowings 

lage  called  Otokunoi-mura  [probably  pronounced 
Otonoi-mura]." 

This  village-name  does  not  appear  in  any  Jap 
anese  directory  of  to-day.  But  the  names  of 
many  towns  and  villages  have  been  changed 
since  the  foregoing  story  was  written. 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten1 


iThe  original  story  is  In  the  Otogi-Hyaku-Monogatari 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten 


IN  Kyoto  there  is  a  famous  temple  called  Ama- 
dera.    Sadazumi  Shinno,  the  fifth  son  of 
the  Emperor  Seiwa,  passed  the  greater  part 
of  his  life  there  as  a  priest ;  and  the  graves  of 
many  celebrated  persons  are  to  be  seen  in  the 
temple-grounds. 

But  the  present  edifice  is  not  the  ancient  Ama- 
dera.  The  original  temple,  after  the  lapse  of  ten 
centuries,  fell  into  such  decay  that  it  had  to  be 
entirely  rebuilt  in  the  fourteenth  year  of  Genroku 
(1701  A.  D.). 

A  great  festival  was  held  to  celebrate  the  re 
building  of  the  Amadera ;  and  among  the  thou 
sands  of  persons  who  attended  that  festival  there 
was  a  young  scholar  and  poet  named  Hanagaki 
Baishu.  He  wandered  about  the  newly-laid-out 
grounds  and  gardens,  delighted  by  all  that  he  saw, 
until  he  reached  the  place  of  a  spring  at  which  he 
41 


42  Shadowings 

had  often  drunk  in  former  times.  He  was  then 
surprised  to  find  that  the  soil  about  the  spring 
had  been  dug  away,  so  as  to  form  a  square  pond, 
and  that  at  one  corner  of  this  pond  there  had 
been  set  up  a  wooden  tablet  bearing  the  words 
Tanjo-Sui  ("  Birth- Water")-1  He  also  saw 
that  a  small,  but  very  handsome  temple  of  the 
Goddess  Benten  had  been  erected  beside  the 
pond.  While  he  was  looking  at  this  new  tem 
ple,  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  blew  to  his  feet  a  tan- 
%akutz  on  which  the  following  poem  had  been 
written :  — 

Shirushi  ar&o 
Iwai  zo  somuru 

Tama  hoki, 
Torut£  bakari  no 
Chigiri  nare'tomo. 

This  poem  —  a  poem  on  first  love  (hatsu  koi), 
composed  by  the  famous  Shunrei  Kyo  —  was  not 


1  The  word  tanfi  (birth)  should  here  be  understood  in 
its  mystical  Buddhist  meaning  of  new  life  or  rebirth,  rather 
than  in  the  western  signification  of  birth. 

2  Tan^aku  is  the  name  given  to  the  long  strips  or  rib 
bons  of  paper,  usually  colored,  upon  which  poems  are 
written  perpendicularly.    Poems  written  upon  tan^aku  are 
suspended  to  trees  in  flower,  to  wind-bells,  to  any  beautiful 
object  in  which  the  poet  has  found  an  inspiration. 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten       43 

unfamiliar  to  him;  but  it  had  been  written 
upon  the  tan^aku  by  a  female  hand,  and  so 
exquisitely  that  he  could  scarcely  believe  his 
eyes.  Something  in  the  form  of  the  charac 
ters, —  an  indefinite  grace,  — suggested  that  period 
of  youth  between  childhood  and  womanhood; 
and  the  pure  rich  color  of  the  ink  seemed  to 
bespeak  the  purity  and  goodness  of  the  writer's 
heart.1 

Baishu  carefully  folded  up  the  tan^aku,  and 
took  it  home  with  him.  When  he  looked  at  it 
again  the  writing  appeared  to  him  even  more 
wonderful  than  at  first.  His  knowledge  in  calig- 
raphy  assured  him  only  that  the  poem  had  been 
written  by  some  girl  who  was  very  young,  very 
intelligent,  and  probably  very  gentle-hearted. 


1  It  is  difficult  for  the  inexperienced  European  eye  to 
distinguish  in  Chinese  or  Japanese  writing  those  character 
istics  implied  by  our  term  "  hand  "  — in  the  sense  of  indi 
vidual  style.  But  the  Japanese  scholar  never  forgets  the 
peculiarities  of  a  handwriting  once  seen ;  and  he  can  even 
guess  at  the  approximate  age  of  the  writer.  Chinese  and 
Japanese  authors  claim  that  the  color  (quality)  of  the  ink 
used  tells  something  of  the  character  of  the  writer.  As 
every  person  grounds  or  prepares  his  or  her  own  ink,  the 
deeper  and  clearer  black  would  at  least  indicate  something 
of  personal  carefulness  and  of  the  sense  of  beauty. 


44  Shadowings 

But  this  assurance  sufficed  to  shape  within  his 
mind  the  image  of  a  very  charming  person  ;  and 
he  soon  found  himself  in  love  with  the  unknown. 
Then  his  first  resolve  was  to  seek  out  the  writer 
of  the  verses,  and,  if  possible,  make  her  his  wife. 
.  .  .  Yet  how  was  he  to  find  her?  Who  was 
she  ?  Where  did  she  live  ?  Certainly  he  could 
hope  to  find  her  only  through  the  favor  of  the 
Gods. 

But  presently  it  occurred  to  him  that  the 
Gods  might  be  very  willing  to  lend  their  aid. 
The  tan^aku  had  come  to  him  while  he  was 
standing  in  front  of  the  temple  of  Benten-Sama ; 
and  it  was  to  this  divinity  in  particular  that  lovers 
were  wont  to  pray  for  happy  union.  This  reflec 
tion  impelled  him  to  beseech  the  Goddess  for 
assistance.  He  went  at  once  to  the  temple  of 
Benten -of -the -Birth -Water  ( Tanjo-sui -no -Ben- 
ten)  in  the  grounds  of  the  Amadera ;  and  there, 
with  all  the  fervor  of  his  heart,  he  made  his 
petition:  —  "O  Goddess,  pity  me!— help  me 
to  find  where  the  young  person  lives  who  wrote 
the  tanqaku  I  —  vouchsafe  me  but  one  chance  to 
meet  her,  —  even  if  only  for  a  moment ! "  And 
after  having  made  this  prayer,  he  began  to  per 
form  a  seven  days'  religious  service  (nanuka 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten        4? 

mairi)  1  in  honor  of  the  Goddess ;  vowing  at 
the  same  time  to  pass  the  seventh  night  in  cease 
less  worship  before  her  shrine. 

Now  on  the  seventh  night, — the  night  of  his 
vigil,  —  during  the  hour  when  the  silence  is  most 
deep,  he  heard  at  the  main  gateway  of  the  temple- 
grounds  a  voice  calling  for  admittance.  Another 
voice  from  within  answered ;  the  gate  was  opened ; 
and  Baishu  saw  an  old  man  of  majestic  appear 
ance  approaching  with  slow  steps.  This  vener 
able  person  was  clad  in  robes  of  ceremony ;  and 
he  wore  upon  his  snow-white  head  a  black  cap 
(eboshi)  of  the  form  indicating  high  rank. 
Reaching  the  little  temple  of  Benten,  he  knelt 
down  in  front  of  it,  as  if  respectfully  awaiting 
some  order.  Then  the  outer  door  of  the  temple 
was  opened ;  the  hanging  curtain  of  bamboo 
behind  it,  concealing  the  inner  sanctuary,  was 
rolled  half-way  up  ;  and  a  chigo a  came  forward, 

1  There  are  many  kinds  of  religious  exercises  called 
mairi.    The  performer  of  a  nanuka-mairi  pledges  himself 
to  pray  at  a  certain  temple  every  day  for  seven  days  in 
succession. 

2  The  term  chigo  usually  means  the  page  of  a  noble 
household,  especially  an  Imperial  page.    The  chigo  who 


46  Shadowings 

—  a  beautiful  boy,  with  long  hair  tied  back  in 
the  ancient  manner.  He  stood  at  the  threshold, 
and  said  to  the  old  man  in  a  clear  loud  voice :  — 

"  There  is  a  person  here  who  has  been  praying 
for  a  love-union  not  suitable  to  his  present  con 
dition,  and  otherwise  difficult  to  bring  about. 
But  as  the  young  man  is  worthy  of  Our  pity,  you 
have  been  called  to  see  whether  something  can 
be  done  for  him.  If  there  should  prove  to  be 
any  relation  between  the  parties  from  the  period 
of  a  former  birth,  you  will  introduce  them  to 
each  other." 

On  receiving  this  command,  the  old  man 
bowed  respectfully  to  the  Mgo :  then,  rising,  he 
drew  from  the  pocket  of  his  long  left  sleeve  a 
crimson  cord.  One  end  of  this  cord  he  passed 
round  Baishu's  body,  as  if  to  bind  him  with  it. 
The  other  end  he  put  into  the  flame  of  one  of 
the  temple -lamps ;  and  while  the  cord  was  there 
burning,  he  waved  his  hand  three  times,  as  if  to 
summon  somebody  out  of  the  dark. 

Immediately,  in  the  direction  of  the  Amadera,  a 
sound  of  coming  steps  was  heard ;  and  in  another 


appears  in  this  story  is  of  course  a  supernatural  being,  — 
the  court-messenger  of  the  Goddess,  and  her  mouthpiece. 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten       47 

moment  a  girl  appeared,  —  a  charming  girl,  fif 
teen  or  sixteen  years  old.  She  approached  grace 
fully,  but  very  shyly,  —  hiding  the  lower  part  of 
her  face  with  a  fan ;  and  she  knelt  down  beside 
Baishu.  The  Mgo  then  said  to  Baishu :  — 

"  Recently  you  have  been  suffering  much 
heart -pain ;  and  this  desperate  love  of  yours 
has  even  impaired  your  health.  We  could  not 
allow  you  to  remain  in  so  unhappy  a  condi 
tion  ;  and  We  therefore  summoned  the  Old- 
Man-under-the-Moon  *  to  make  you  acquainted 
with  the  writer  of  that  tan^aku.  She  is  now 
beside  you." 

With  these  words,  the  Mgo  retired  behind  the 
bamboo  curtain.  Then  the  old  man  went  away 
as  he  had  come;  and  the  young  girl  followed 
him.  Simultaneously  Baishu  heard  the  great  bell 
of  the  Amadera  sounding  the  hour  of  dawn.  He 
prostrated  himself  in  thanksgiving  before  the 
shrine  of  Benten-of -the- Birth- Water,  and  pro 
ceeded  homeward,  —  feeling  as  if  awakened  from 
some  delightful  dream,  —  happy  at  having  seen 

1  Gekkawo.  This  is  a  poetical  appellation  for  the 
God  of  Marriage,  more  usually  known  as  Musubi-no-kami. 
Throughout  this  story  there  is  an  interesting  mingling  of 
Shinto  and  Buddhist  ideas. 


48  Shadowings 

the  charming  person  whom  he  had  so  fervently 
prayed  to  meet,  —  unhappy  also  because  of  the 
fear  that  he  might  never  meet  her  again. 

But  scarcely  had  he  passed  from  the  gateway 
into  the  street,  when  he  saw  a  young  girl  walking 
alone  in  the  same  direction  that  he  was  going ; 
and,  even  in  the  dusk  of  the  dawn,  he  recognized 
her  at  once  as  the  person  to  whom  he  had  been 
introduced  before  the  temple  of  Benten.  As  he 
quickened  his  pace  to  overtake  her,  she  turned 
and  saluted  him  with  a  graceful  bow.  Then  for 
the  first  time  he  ventured  to  speak  to  her;  and 
she  answered  him  in  a  voice  of  which  the  sweet 
ness  filled  his  heart  with  joy.  Through  the  yet 
silent  streets  they  walked  on,  chatting  happily, 
till  they  found  themselves  before  the  house 
where  Baishu  lived.  There  he  paused  —  spoke 
to  the  girl  of  his  hopes  and  fears.  Smiling,  she 
asked :  —  "Do  you  not  know  that  I  was  sent  for 
to  become  your  wife?"  And  she  entered  with 
him. 

Becoming  his  wife,  she  delighted  him  beyond 
expectation  by  the  charm  of  her  mind  and  heart. 
Moreover,  he  found  her  to  be  much  more  accom 
plished  than  he  had  supposed.  Besides  being 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten        49 

able  to  write  so  wonderfully,  she  could  paint 
beautiful  pictures;  she  knew  the  art  of  arrang 
ing  flowers,  the  art  of  embroidery,  the  art  of 
music  ;  she  could  weave  and  sew ;  and  she  knew 
everything  in  regard  to  the  management  of 
a  house. 

It  was  in  the  early  autumn  that  the  young 
people  had  met;  and  they  lived  together  in 
perfect  accord  until  the  winter  season  began. 
Nothing,  during  those  months,  occurred  to  dis 
turb  their  peace.  Baishu's  love  for  his  gentle 
wife  only  strengthened  with  the  passing  of  time. 
Yet,  strangely  enough,  he  remained  ignorant  of 
her  history  j —  knew  nothing  about  her  family. 
Of  such  matters  she  had  never  spoken;  and, 
as  the  Gods  had  given  her  to  him,  he  imagined 
that  it  would  not  be  proper  to  question  her.  But 
neither  the  Old-Man-under-the-Moon  nor  any 
one  else  came  —  as  he  had  feared  —  to  take  her 
away.  Nobody  even  made  any  inquiries  about 
her.  And  the  neighbors,  for  some  undiscover- 
able  reason,  acted  as  if  totally  unaware  of  her 
presence. 

Baishu  wondered  at  all  this.  But  stranger 
experiences  were  awaiting  him. 

4 


£0  Shadowings 

One  winter  morning  he  happened  to  be  pass 
ing  through  a  somewhat  remote  quarter  of  the 
city,  when  he  heard  himself  loudly  called  by 
name,  and  saw  a  man-servant  making  signs  to 
him  from  the  gateway  of  a  private  residence. 
As  Baishu  did  not  know  the  man's  face,  and  did 
not  have  a  single  acquaintance  in  that  part  of 
Kyoto,  he  was  more  than  startled  by  so  abrupt  a 
summons.  But  the  servant,  coming  forward, 
saluted  him  with  the  utmost  respect,  and  said, 
"  My  master  greatly  desires  the  honor  of  speaking 
with  you :  deign  to  enter  for  a  moment."  After 
an  instant  of  hesitation,  Baishu  allowed  himself 
to  be  conducted  to  the  house.  A  dignified 
and  richly  dressed  person,  who  seemed  to  be 
the  master,  welcomed  him  at  the  entrance,  and 
led  him  to  the  guest-room.  When  the  courte 
sies  due  upon  a  first  meeting  had  been  fully 
exchanged,  the  host  apologized  for  the  informal 
manner  of  his  invitation,  and  said :  — 

"  It  must  have  seemed  to  you  very  rude  of  us 
to  call  you  in  such  a  way.  But  perhaps  you  will 
pardon  our  impoliteness  when  I  tell  you  that  we 
acted  thus  upon  what  I  firmly  believe  to  have 
been  an  inspiration  from  the  Goddess  Benten. 
Now  permit  me  to  explain. 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten        £1 

"  I  have  a  daughter,  about  sixteen  years  old, 
who  can  write  rather  well,1  and  do  other  things 
in  the  common  way :  she  has  the  ordinary  nature 
of  woman.  As  we  were  anxious  to  make  her 
happy  by  finding  a  good  husband  for  her,  we 
prayed  the  Goddess  Benten  to  help  us ;  and  we 
sent  to  every  temple  of  Benten  in  the  city  a 
tan^aku  written  by  the  girl.  Some  nights  later, 
the  Goddess  appeared  to  me  in  a  dream,  and 
said:  'We  have  heard  your  prayer,  and  have 
already  introduced  your  daughter  to  the  person 
who  is  to  become  her  husband.  During  the 
coming  winter  he  will  visit  you.'  As  I  did  not 
understand  this  assurance  that  a  presentation  had 
been  made,  I  felt  some  doubt;  I  thought  that 
the  dream  might  have  been  only  a  common 
dream,  signifying  nothing.  But  last  night  again 
I  saw  Benten-Sama  in  a  dream ;  and  she  said  to 
me :  '  To-morrow  the  young  man,  of  whom  I 


1  As  it  is  the  old  Japanese  rule  that  parents  should 
speak  depreciatingly  of  their  children's  accomplishments 
the  phrase  "  rather  well "  in  this  connection  would  mean, 
for  the  visitor,  "  wonderfully  well."  For  the  same  reason 
the  expressions  "  common  way  "  and  "  ordinary  nature," 
as  subsequently  used,  would  imply  almost  the  reverse  of 
the  literal  meaning. 


£2  Shadowings 

once  spoke  to  you,  will  come  to  this  street :  then 
you  can  call  him  into  your  house,  and  ask  him 
to  become  the  husband  of  your  daughter.  He 
is  a  good  young  man ;  and  later  in  life  he  will 
obtain  a  much  higher  rank  than  he  now  holds.' 
Then  Benten-Sama  told  me  your  name,  your 
age,  your  birthplace,  and  described  your  features 
and  dress  so  exactly  that  my  servant  found  no 
difficulty  in  recognizing  you  by  the  indications 
which  I  was  able  to  give  him." 

This  explanation  bewildered  Baishu  instead  of 
reassuring  him ;  and  his  only  reply  was  a  formal 
return  of  thanks  for  the  honor  which  the  master 
of  the  house  had  spoken  of  doing  him.  But 
when  the  host  invited  him  to  another  room,  for 
the  purpose  of  presenting  him  to  the  young 
lady,  his  embarrassment  became  extreme.  Yet 
he  could  not  reasonably  decline  the  introduc 
tion.  He  could  not  bring  himself,  under  such 
extraordinary  circumstances,  to  announce  that  he 
already  had  a  wife,  —  a  wife  given  to  him  by 
the  Goddess  Benten  herself ;  a  wife  from  whom 
he  could  not  even  think  of  separating.  So,  in 
silence  and  trepidation,  he  followed  his  host  to 
the  apartment  indicated. 


The  Sympathy  of  Benten        ">3 

Then  what  was  his  amazement  to  discover, 
when  presented  to  the  daughter  of  the  house, 
that  she  was  the  very  same  person  whom  he 
had  already  taken  to  wife! 

The  same,  — yet  not  the  same. 

She  to  whom  he  had  been  introduced  by  the 
Old-Man-under-the-Moon,  was  only  the  soul  of 
the  beloved. 

She  to  whom  he  was  now  to  be  wedded,  in 
her  father's  house,  was  the  body. 

Benten  had  wrought  this  miracle  for  the  sake 
of  her  worshippers. 


*  # 


The  original  story  breaks  off  suddenly  at  this 
point,  leaving  several  matters  unexplained.  The 
ending  is  rather  unsatisfactory.  One  would  like 
to  know  something  about  the  mental  experi 
ences  of  the  real  maiden  during  the  married  life 
of  her  phantom.  One  would  also  like  to  know 
what  became  of  the  phantom,  —  whether  it 
continued  to  lead  an  independent  existence; 
whether  it  waited  patiently  for  the  return  of 
its  husband;  whether  it  paid  a  visit  to  the  real 
bride.  And  the  book  says  nothing  about  these 


?4  Shadowings 

things.     But  a    Japanese   friend   explains   the 
miracle  thus:  — 

"  The  spirit-bride  was  really  formed  out  of  the 
tan^aku.  So  it  is  possible  that  the  real  girl  did 
not  know  anything  about  the  meeting  at  the 
temple  of  Benten.  When  she  wrote  those  beau 
tiful  characters  upon  the  tan^aku,  something  of 
her  spirit  passed  into  them.  Therefore  it  was 
possible  to  evoke  from  the  writing  the  double 
of  the  writer." 


The  Gratitude  of  the  Samebito1 
9 


The  original  of  this  story  may  be  found  in  the  book  called 
Kibun-Anbaiyosbi 


The  Gratitude  of  the  Samebito 


THERE  was  a  man  named  Tawaraya  Totaro, 
who  lived  in  the  Province  of  Omi.    His 
house  was  situated  on  the  shore  of  Lake 
Biwa,  not  far  from  the  famous  temple  called 
Ishiyamadera.      He    had    some    property,    and 
lived  in  comfort ;  but  at  the  age  of  twenty-nine 
he  was  still  unmarried.    His  greatest  ambition 
was  to  marry  a  very  beautiful  woman;  and  he 
had  not  been  able  to  find  a  girl  to  his  liking. 

One  day,  as  he  was  passing  over  the  Long  Bridge 
of  Seta,1  he  saw  a  strange  being  crouching  close 
to  the  parapet.  The  body  of  this  being  resembled 


1  The  Long  Bridge  of  S&a  (Seta-no-Naga-Hasbi),  famous 
in  Japanese  legend,  is  nearly  eight  hundred  feet  in  length,  and 
commands  a  beautiful  view.  This  bridge  crosses  the  waters 
of  the  Setagawa  near  the  junction  of  the  stream  with  Lake 
Biwa.  Ishiyamadera,  one  of  the  most  picturesque  Buddhist 
temples  in  Japan,  is  situated  within  a  short  distance  from 
the  bridge. 

57 


?8  Shadowings 

the  body  of  a  man,  but  was  black  as  ink;  its 
face  was  like  the  face  of  a  demon ;  its  eyes  were 
green  as  emeralds;  and  its  beard  was  like  the 
beard  of  a  dragon.  Totaro  was  at  first  very 
much  startled.  But  the  green  eyes  looked  at 
him  so  gently  that  after  a  moment's  hesitation 
he  ventured  to  question  the  creature.  Then  it 
answered  him,  saying:  "I  am  a  Samebito,1  — 
a  Shark -Man  of  the  sea ;  and  until  a  short  time 
ago  I  was  in  the  service  of  the  Eight  Great 
Dragon-Kings  [Hachi-Dai-Ryu-0]  as  a  subor 
dinate  officer  in  the  Dragon-Palace  [Ryugu]* 
But  because  of  a  small  fault  which  I  committed, 
I  was  dismissed  from  the  Dragon- Palace,  and 
also  banished  from  the  Sea.  Since  then  I  have 
been  wandering  about  here, — unable  to  get  any 
food,  or  even  a  place  to  lie  down.  If  you  can 


1  Literally,  "a  Shark-Person,"  but  in  this  story  the 
Samebito  is  a  male.    The  characters  for  Samebito  can  also  be 
read  Kojm,  —  which  is  the  usual  reading.    In  dictionaries 
the  word  is  loosely  rendered  by  "  merman "  or  "  mer 
maid  ; "  but  as  the  above  description  shows,  the  Samebito 
or  Koj'in  of  the  Far  East  is  a  conception  having  little  in 
common  with  the  Western  idea  of  a  merman  or  mermaid. 

2  Ryugu  is  also  the  name  given  to  the  whole  of  that 
fairy-realm  beneath  the  sea  which   figures  in  so  many 
Japanese  legends. 


Gratitude  of  the  Sam£bito       ?9 

feel  any  pity  for  me,  do,  I  beseech  you,  help  me 
to  find  a  shelter,  and  let  me  have  something  to 
eat ! " 

This  petition  was  uttered  in  so  plaintive  a 
tone,  and  in  so  humble  a  manner,  that  Totaro's 
heart  was  touched.  "  Come  with  me,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  in  my  garden  a  large  and  deep  pond 
where  you  may  live  as  long  as  you  wish ;  and  I 
will  give  you  plenty  to  eat." 

The  Samebito  followed  Totaro  home,  and  ap 
peared  to  be  much  pleased  with  the  pond. 

Thereafter,  for  nearly  half  a  year,  this  strange 
guest  dwelt  in  the  pond,  and  was  every  day  sup 
plied  by  Totaro  with  such  food  as  sea-creatures 
like. 

[From  this  point  of  the  original  narrative  the  Shark-Man  is 
referred  to,  not  as  a  monster,  but  as  a  sympathetic  Person  of 
the  male  sex.] 

Now,  in  the  seventh  month  of  the  same  year, 
there  was  a  female  pilgrimage  (nyonin-mode)  to 
the  great  Buddhist  temple  called  Miidera,  in  the 
neighboring  town  of  Otsu ;  and  Totaro  went  to 
Otsu  to  attend  the  festival.  Among  the  multi 
tude  of  women  and  young  girls  there  assembled, 
he  observed  a  person  of  extraordinary  beauty. 
She  seemed  about  sixteen  years  old ;  her  face  was 


60  Shadowings 

fair  and  pure  as  snow ;  and  the  loveliness  of  her 
lips  assured  the  beholder  that  their  every  utter- 
ance  would  sound  "  as  sweet  as  the  voice  of  a 
nightingale  singing  upon  a  plum-tree."  Totaro 
fell  in  love  with  her  at  sight.  When  she  left  the 
temple  he  followed  her  at  a  respectful  distance, 
and  discovered  that  she  and  her  mother  were 
staying  for  a  few  days  at  a  certain  house  in  the 
neighboring  village  of  Seta.  By  questioning 
some  of  the  village  folk,  he  was  able  also  to 
learn  that  her  name  was  Tamana ;  that  she  was 
unmarried;  and  that  her  family  appeared  to  be 
unwilling  that  she  should  marry  a  man  of  ordi 
nary  rank,  —  for  they  demanded  as  a  betrothal- 
gift  a  casket  containing  ten  thousand  jewels.1 

Totaro  returned  home  very  much  dismayed  by 
this  information.  The  more  that  he  thought  about 
the  strange  betrothal-gift  demanded  by  the  girl's 
parents,  the  more  he  felt  that  he  could  never 


1  Tama  in  the  original.  This  word  tama  has  a  multitude 
of  meanings ;  and  as  here  used  it  is  quite  as  indefinite  as  our 
own  terms  "  jewel,"  "  gem,"  or  "  precious  stone."  Indeed, 
it  is  more  indefinite,  for  it  signifies  also  a  bead  of  coral,  a 
ball  of  crystal,  a  polished  stone  attached  to  a  hairpin,  etc., 
etc.  Later  on,  however,  I  venture  to  render  it  by  "ruby," 
—  for  reasons  which  need  no  explanation. 


Gratitude  of  the  Samdbito       61 

expect  to  obtain  her  for  his  wife.  Even  suppos 
ing  that  there  were  as  many  as  ten  thousand 
jewels  in  the  whole  country,  only  a  great  prince 
could  hope  to  procure  them. 

But  not  even  for  a  single  hour  could  Totaro 
banish  from  his  mind  the  memory  of  that  beauti 
ful  being.  It  haunted  him  so  that  he  could 
neither  eat  nor  sleep;  and  it  seemed  to  become 
more  and  more  vivid  as  the  days  went  by.  And 
at  last  he  became  ill,  —  so  ill  that  he  could  not 
lift  his  head  from  the  pillow.  Then  he  sent  for 
a  doctor. 

The  doctor,  after  having  made  a  careful  exam 
ination,  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  "  Al 
most  any  kind  of  sickness,"  he  said,  "can  be 
cured  by  proper  medical  treatment,  except  the 
sickness  of  love.  Your  ailment  is  evidently  love- 
sickness.  There  is  no  cure  for  it.  In  ancient 
times  R6ya-O  Hakuyo  died  of  that  sickness;  and 
you  must  prepare  yourself  to  die  as  he  died." 
So  saying,  the  doctor  went  away,  without  even 
giving  any  medicine  to  Totaro. 

About  this  time  the  Shark -Man  that  was  living 
in  the  garden -pond  heard  of  his  master's  sickness, 
and  came  into  the  house  to  wait  upon  Totaro. 


62  Shadowings 

And  he  tended  him  with  the  utmost  affection 
both  by  day  and  by  night.  But  he  did  not  know 
either  the  cause  or  the  serious  nature  of  the  sick 
ness  until  nearly  a  week  later,  when  Totaro, 
thinking  himself  about  to  die,  uttered  these  words 
of  farewell :  — 

"  I  suppose  that  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
caring  for  you  thus  long,  because  of  some  relation 
that  grew  up  between  us  in  a  former  state  of 
existence.  But  now  I  am  very  sick  indeed,  and 
every  day  my  sickness  becomes  worse ;  and  my 
life  is  like  the  morning  dew  which  passes  away 
before  the  setting  of  the  sun.  For  your  sake, 
therefore,  I  am  troubled  in  mind.  Your  existence 
has  depended  upon  my  care;  and  I  fear  that 
there  will  be  no  one  to  care  for  you  and  to  feed 
you  when  I  am  dead.  .  .  .  My  poor  friend  !  .  .  . 
Alas !  our  hopes  and  our  wishes  are  always  dis 
appointed  in  this  unhappy  world !  " 

No  sooner  had  Totaro  spoken  these  words 
than  the  Samebito  uttered  a  strange  wild  cry  of 
pain,  and  began  to  weep  bitterly.  And  as  he 
wept,  great  tears  of  blood  streamed  from  his 
green  eyes  and  rolled  down  his  black  cheeks  and 
dripped  upon  the  floor.  And,  falling,  they  were 
blood ;  but,  having  fallen,  they  became  hard  and 


Gratitude  of  the  Samebito       6? 

bright  and  beautiful,  —  became  jewels  of  inesti 
mable  price,  rubies  splendid  as  crimson  fire.  For 
when  men  of  the  sea  weep,  their  tears  become 
precious  stones. 

Then  Totaro,  beholding  this  marvel,  was  so 
amazed  and  overjoyed  that  his  strength  returned 
to  him.  He  sprang  from  his  bed,  and  began  to 
pick  up  and  to  count  the  tears  of  the  Shark -Man, 
crying  out  the  while :  "  My  sickness  is  cured ! 
I  shall  live !  I  shall  live  !  " 

Therewith,  the  Shark-Man,  greatly  astonished, 
ceased  to  weep,  and  asked  Totaro  to  explain  this 
wonderful  cure ;  and  Totaro  told  him  about  the 
young  person  seen  at  Miidera,  and  about  the 
extraordinary  marriage-gift  demanded  by  her 
family.  "  As  I  felt  sure,"  added  Totaro,  "that 
I  should  never  be  able  to  get  ten  thousand  jewels, 
I  supposed  that  my  suit  would  be  hopeless. 
Then  I  became  very  unhappy,  and  at  last  fell 
sick.  But  now,  because  of  your  generous  weep 
ing,  I  have  many  precious  stones;  and  I  think 
that  I  shall  be  able  to  marry  that  girl.  Only  — 
there  are  not  yet  quite  enough  stones;  and  I 
beg  that  you  will  be  good  enough  to  weep  a 
little  more,  so  as  to  make  up  the  full  number 
required." 


64  Shadowings 

But  at  this  request  the  Samebito  shook  his 
head,  and  answered  in  a  tone  of  surprise  and  of 
reproach :  — 

"  Do  ypu  think  that  I  am  like  a  harlot,  —  able 
to  weep  whenever  I  wish  ?  Oh,  no !  Harlots  shed 
tears  in  order  to  deceive  men ;  but  creatures  of  the 
sea  cannot  weep  without  feeling  real  sorrow.  I 
wept  for  you  because  of  the  true  grief  that  I  felt 
in  my  heart  at  the  thought  that  you  were  going 
to  die.  But  now  I  cannot  weep  for  you,  because 
you  have  told  me  that  your  sickness  is  cured." 

"  Then  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  plaintively  asked 
Totaro.  "  Unless  I  can  get  ten  thousand  jewels, 
I  cannot  marry  the  girl ! " 

The  Same'bito  remained  for  a  little  while  silent, 
as  if  thinking.  Then  he  said :  — 

"  Listen  !  To-day  I  cannot  possibly  weep  any 
more.  But  to-morrow  let  us  go  together  to  the 
Long  Bridge  of  Seta,  taking  with  us  some 
wine  and  some  fish.  We  can  rest  for  a  time  on 
the  bridge ;  and  while  we  are  drinking  the  wine 
and  eating  the  fish,  I  shall  gaze  in  the  direction 
of  the  Dragon-Palace,  and  try,  by  thinking  of 
the  happy  days  that  I  spent  there,  to  make  my 
self  feel  homesick  — so  that  I  can  weep." 

Totaro  joyfully  assented. 


Gratitude  of  the  Sam£bito       6? 

Next  morning  the  two,  taking  plenty  of  wine 
and  fish  with  them,  went  to  the  Seta  bridge,  and 
rested  there,  and  feasted.  After  having  drunk  a 
great  deal  of  wine,  the  Samebito  began  to  gaze 
in  the  direction  of  the  Dragon -Kingdom,  and  to 
think  about  the  past.  And  gradually,  under  the 
softening  influence  of  the  wine,  the  memory  of 
happier  days  filled  his  heart  with  sorrow,  and  the 
pain  of  homesickness  came  upon  him,  so  that  he 
could  weep  profusely.  And  the  great  red  tears 
that  he  shed  fell  upon  the  bridge  in  a  shower  of 
rubies ;  and  Totaro  gathered  them  as  they  fell, 
and  put  them  into  a  casket,  and  counted  them 
until  he  had  counted  the  full  number  of  ten 
thousand.  Then  he  uttered  a  shout  of  joy. 

Almost  in  the  same  moment,  from  far  away 
over  the  lake,  a  delightful  sound  of  music  was 
heard;  and  there  appeared  in  the  offing,  slowly 
rising  from  the  waters,  like  some  fabric  of  cloud, 
a  palace  of  the  color  of  the  setting  sun. 

At  once  the  Samebito  sprang  upon  the  parapet 
of  the  bridge,  and  looked,  and  laughed  for  joy. 
Then,  turning  to  Totaro,  he  said  :  — 

"  There  must  have  been  a  general  amnesty 
proclaimed  in  the  Dragon-Realm ;  the  Kings  are 
calling  me.  So  now  I  must  bid  you  farewell. 
5 


66  Shadowings 

I  am  happy  to  have  had  one  chance  of  befriend 
ing  you  in  return  for  your  goodness  to  me." 

With  these  words  he  leaped  from  the  bridge ; 
and  no  man  ever  saw  him  again.  But  Totaro 
presented  the  casket  of  red  jewels  to  the  parents 
of  Tamana,  and  so  obtained  her  in  marriage. 


JAPANESE  STUDIES 


.  .  .  Life  ere  long 

Came  on  me  in  the  public  ways,  and  bent 
Eyes  deeper  than  of  old:  Death  met  I  too, 
And  saw  the  dawn  glow  through. 
—GEORGE  MEREDITH 


Semi 

(CICAD/E) 


Koe  ni  mina 
Naki-shimote  ya  — 
Semi  no  karat 

— Japanese  Love-Song 


The  voice  having  been  all  consumed  by  crying,  there  remains  only 
the  shell  of  the  semi  I 


Semi 

* 


i 

A  CELEBRATED  Chinese  scholar,  known  in 
Japanese  literature    as  Riku-Un,  wrote 
the  following  quaint  account  of  the  Five 
Virtues  of  the  Cicada :  — 

"I. —The  Cicada  has  upon  its  head  certain 
figures  or  signs.1  These  represent  its  [written] 
characters,  style,  literature. 

"II.  —  It  eats  nothing  belonging  to  earth,  and 
drinks  only  dew.  This  proves  its  cleanliness, 
purity,  propriety. 

"III.  — It  always  appears  at  a  certain  fixed 
time.  This  proves  its  fidelity,  sincerity,  truth 
fulness. 

"IV.  —  It  will  not  accept  wheat  or  rice.  This 
proves  its  probity,  uprightness,  honesty. 

1  The  curious  markings  on  the  head  of  one  variety  of 
Japanese  semi  are  believed  to  be  characters  which  are 
names  of  souls. 

71 


72  Shadowings 

"V.  —  It  does  not  make  for  itself  any  nest 
to  live  in.  This  proves  its  frugality,  thrift, 
economy." 

We  might  compare  this  with  the  beautiful 
address  of  Anacreon  to  the  cicada,  written 
twenty-four  hundred  years  ago:  on  more  than 
one  point  the  Greek  poet  and  the  Chinese  sage 
are  in  perfect  accord :  — 

"  We  deem  thee  happy,  O  Cicada,  because, 
having  drunk,  like  a  king,  only  a  little  dew, 
thou  dost  chirrup  on  the  tops  of  trees.  For  all 
things  whatsoever  that  thou  seest  in  the  fields 
are  thine,  and  whatsoever  the  seasons  bring 
forth.  Yet  art  thou  the  friend  of  the  tillers  of 
the  land,  — from  no  one  harmfully  taking  aught. 
By  mortals  thou  art  held  in  honor  as  the  pleas 
ant  harbinger  of  summer ;  and  the  Muses  love 
thee.  Phcebus  himself  loves  thee,  and  has  given 
thee  a  shrill  song.  And  old  age  does  not  con 
sume  thee.  O  thou  gifted  one, — earth-born, 
song -loving,  free  from  pain,  having  flesh  with 
out  blood,  —  thou  art  nearly  equal  to  the 
Gods!'11 

1  In  this  and  other  citations  from  the  Greek  anthology, 
I  have  depended  upon  Burges'  translation. 


3  4 

PLATE  I. 

1-2,  Young  Semi. 
3-4,  Haru-Zemi,  also  called  Nawasbtro-ZJmi. 


73 

And  we  must  certainly  go  back  to  the  old 
Greek  literature  in  order  to  find  a  poetry  com 
parable  to  that  of  the  Japanese  on  the  subject 
of  musical  insects.  Perhaps  of  Greek  verses  on 
the  cricket,  the  most  beautiful  are  the  lines  of 
Meleager :  "  O  cricket,  the  soother  of  slumber 
.  .  .  weaving  the  thread  of  a  voice  that  causes 
love  to  wander  away !  "  .  .  .  There  are  Japan 
ese  poems  scarcely  less  delicate  in  sentiment  on 
the  chirruping  of  night- crickets ;  and  Meleager's 
promise  to  reward  the  little  singer  with  gifts  of 
fresh  leek,  and  with  "drops  of  dew  cut  up 
small,"  sounds  strangely  Japanese.  Then  the 
poem  attributed  to  Anyte,  about  the  little  girl 
Myro  making  a  tomb  for  her  pet  cicada  and 
cricket,  and  weeping  because  Hades,  "hard  to 
be  persuaded,"  had  taken  her  playthings  away, 
represents  an  experience  familiar  to  Japanese 
child -life.  I  suppose  that  little  Myro  —  (how 
freshly  her  tears  still  glisten,  after  seven  and 
twenty  centuries  !)  —  prepared  that  "  common 
tomb"  for  her  pets  much  as  the  little  maid  of 
Nippon  would  do  to-day,  putting  a  small  stone 
on  top  to  serve  for  a  monument.  But  the  wiser 
Japanese  Myro  would  repeat  over  the  grave  a 
certain  Buddhist  prayer. 


74  Shadowings 

It  is  especially  in  their  poems  upon  the  cicada 
that  we  find  the  old  Greeks  confessing  their 
love  of  insect- melody :  witness  the  lines  in  the 
Anthology  about  the  tettix  caught  in  a  spider's 
snare,  and  "  making  lament  in  the  thin  fetters  " 
until  freed  by  the  poet;  —  and  the  verses  by 
Leonidas  of  Tarentum  picturing  the  "  unpaid 
minstrel  to  wayfaring  men"  as  "sitting  upon 
lofty  trees,  warmed  with  the  great  heat  of  sum 
mer,  sipping  the  dew  that  is  like  woman's 
milk  ;  "  —  and  the  dainty  fragment  of  Melea- 
ger,  beginning :  "  Thou  vocal  tettix,  drunk  with 
drops  of  dew,  sitting  with  thy  serrated  limbs 
upon  the  tops  of  petals,  thou  gi-vest  out  the 
melody  of  the  lyre  from  thy  dusky  skin"  .  .  . 
Or  take  the  charming  address  of  Evenus  to  a 
nightingale :  — 

"  Thou  Attic  maiden,  honey-fed,  hast  chirp 
ing  seized  a  chirping  cicada,  and  bearest  it  to 
thy  unfledged  young,  —  thou,  a  twitterer,  the 
twitter er,  —  thou,  the  winged,  the  well-winged, 
—  thou,  a  stranger,  the  stranger,  —  thou,  a 
summer -child,  the  summer -child!  Wilt  thou 
not  quickly  cast  it  from  thee  ?  For  it  is  not 
right,  it  is  not  just,  that  those  engaged  in  song 


SSmi  7? 

should  perish  by  the  mouths  of  those  engaged  in 
song." 

On  the  other  hand,  we  find  Japanese  poets 
much  more  inclined  to  praise  the  voices  of  night  - 
crickets  than  those  of  semi.  There  are  countless 
poems  about  semi,  but  very  few  which  com- 
mend  their  singing.  Of  course  the  semi  are 
very  different  from  the  cicadas  known  to  the 
Greeks.  Some  varieties  are  truly  musical;  but 
the  majority  are  astonishingly  noisy,  —  so  noisy 
that  their  stridulation  is  considered  one  of  the 
great  afflictions  of  summer.  Therefore  it  were 
vain  to  seek  among  the  myriads  of  Japanese 
verses  on  se'mi  for  anything  comparable  to  the 
lines  of  Evenus  above  quoted ;  indeed,  the  only 
Japanese  poem  that  I  could  find  on  the  subject  of 
a  cicada  caught  by  a  bird,  was  the  following:  — 

Ana  kanashi ! 

Tobi  ni  toraruru 

S£mi  no  kog. 

—  RANSETSU. 

Ah  I  how  piteous  the  cry  of  the  semi  seized  by  the  kite  ! 

Or  "  caught  by  a  boy "  the  poet  might  equally 
well  have  observed,  —  this  being  a  much  more 
frequent  cause  of  the  pitiful  cry.  The  lament  of 


76  Shadowings 

Nicias  for  the  tettix  would  serve  as  the  elegy  of 
many  a  semi :  — 

"  No  more  shall  I  delight  myself  by  sending  out 
a  sound  from  my  quick-moving  wings,  because 
I  have  fallen  into  the  savage  hand  of  a  boy,  who 
seized  me  unexpectedly,  as  I  was  sitting  under 
the  green  leaves." 

Here  I  may  remark  that  Japanese  children 
usually  capture  semi  by  means  of  a  long  slender 
bamboo  tipped  with  bird-lime  (mochi).  The 
sound  made  by  some  kinds  of  semi  when  caught 
is  really  pitiful,  — quite  as  pitiful  as  the  twitter 
of  a  terrified  bird.  One  finds  it  difficult  to  per 
suade  oneself  that  the  noise  is  not  a  voice  of  an 
guish,  in  the  human  sense  of  the  word  "  voice," 
but  the  production  of  a  specialized  exterior  mem 
brane.  Recently,  on  hearing  a  captured  semi 
thus  scream,  I  became  convinced  in  quite  a  new 
way  that  the  stridulatory  apparatus  of  certain 
insects  must  not  be  thought  of  as  a  kind  of 
musical  instrument,  but  as  an  organ  of  speech, 
and  that  its  utterances  are  as  intimately  associ 
ated  with  simple  forms  of  emotion,  as  are  the 
notes  of  a  bird,  —  the  extraordinary  difference 
being  that  the  insect  has  its  vocal  chords  outside. 


Stoi  77 

But  the  insect-world  is  altogether  a  world  of 
goblins  and  fairies :  creatures  with  organs  of 
which  we  cannot  discover  the  use,  and  senses 
of  which  we  cannot  imagine  the  nature ;  — 
creatures  with  myriads  of  eyes,  or  with  eyes 
in  their  backs,  or  with  eyes  moving  about  at 
the  ends  of  trunks  and  horns ;  —  creatures  with 
ears  in  their  legs  and  bellies,  or  with  brains  in 
their  waists!  If  some  of  them  happen  to  have 
voices  outside  of  their  bodies  instead  of  inside, 
the  fact  ought  not  to  surprise  anybody. 

I  have  not  yet  succeeded  in  finding  any  Japan 
ese  verses  alluding  to  the  stridulatory  apparatus 
of  semi,  —  though  I  think  it  probable  that  such 
verses  exist.  Certainly  the  Japanese  have  been 
for  centuries  familiar  with  the  peculiarities  of 
their  own  singing  insects.  But  I  should  not 
now  presume  to  say  that  their  poets  are  in 
correct  in  speaking  of  the  "voices"  of  crickets 
and  of  cicadas.  The  old  Greek  poets  who  ac 
tually  describe  insects  as  producing  music  with 
their  wings  and  feet,  nevertheless  speak  of  the 
"  voices,"  the  "  songs,"  and  the  "  chirruping  "  of 
such  creatures,  —  just  as  the  Japanese  poets  do. 
For  example,  Meleager  thus  addresses  the  cricket : 


78  Shadowings 

"  O  thou  that  art  with  shrill  wings  the  self- 
formed  imitation  of  the  lyre,  chirrup  me  some 
thing  pleasant  while  heating  your  vocal  wings 
with  your  feet !  .  .  .  " 


II 


BEFORE  speaking  further  of  the  poetical 
literature  of  semi,  I  must  attempt  a  few 
remarks  about  the  semi  themselves.  But 
the  reader  need  not  expect  anything  entomologi 
cal.  Excepting,  perhaps,  the  butterflies,  the  in 
sects  of  Japan  are  still  little  known  to  men  of 
science ;  and  all  that  I  can  say  about  semi  has 
been  learned  from  inquiry,  from  personal  obser 
vation,  and  from  old  Japanese  books  of  an  in 
teresting  but  totally  unscientific  kind.  Not  only 
do  the  authors  contradict  each  other  as  to  the 
names  and  characteristics  of  the  best -known 
semi;  they  attach  the  word  semi  to  names  of 
insects  which  are  not  cicadas. 

The  following  enumeration  of  semi  is  certainly 
incomplete ;  but  I  believe  that  it  includes  the  bet 
ter-known  varieties  and  the  best  melodists.  I 
must  ask  the  reader,  however,  to  bear  in  mind 
that  the  time  of  the  appearance  of  certain  semi 


PLATE  II. 

"  Shinne-Shinne" 

Also  called  Yama-Zemi,  and  Kuma-Zemi. 


S£mi  79 

differs  in  different  parts  of  Japan ;  that  the  same 
kind  of  semi  may  be  called  by  different  names 
in  different  provinces ;  and  that  these  notes  have 
been  written  in  Tokyo. 

I.  —  HARU-ZEMI. 

VARIOUS  small  semi  appear  in  the  spring.  But 
the  first  of  the  big  semi  to  make  itself  heard  is 
the  baru-tfmi  ("  spring-semi  "),  als°  called  uma- 
%emi  ("  horse-semi  "),  huma-^mi  ("  bear- 
semi"),  and  other  names.  It  makes  a  shrill 
wheezing  sound,  — ji-i-i-i-i-iiiiiiii,  —  beginning 
low,  and  gradually  rising  to  a  pitch  of  painful 
intensity.  No  other  cicada  is  so  noisy  as  the 
baru-^emi ;  but  the  life  of  the  creature  appears 
to  end  with  the  season.  Probably  this  is  the 
semi  referred  to  in  an  old  Japanese  poem:  — 

Hatsu-se'mi  ya  1 
"  Kore  wa  atsui"  to 
lu  hi  yori. 

—  TAIMU. 

The  day  after  the  first  day  on  which  we  exclaim, "  Oh, 
how  hot  it  is  !  "  the  first  s^mi  begins  to  cry. 

II.  —  "  SHINNE-SHINNE"." 

THE  sbinne-sbinnt — also  called  yama-^emi,  or 
"  mountain-semi " ;  kuma-^emi,  or  "  bear-semi " ; 


80  Shadowings 

and  o-s£mi,  or  "  great  semi "  —  begins  to  sing  as 
early  as  May.  It  is  a  very  large  insect.  The 
upper  part  of  the  body  is  almost  black,  and  the 
belly  a  silvery-white ;  the  head  has  curious  red 
markings.  The  name  sbinn£-sbinn£  is  derived 
from  the  note  of  the  creature,  which  resembles  a 
quick  continual  repetition  of  the  syllables  sUnnt. 
About  Kyoto  this  semi  is  common :  it  is  rarely 
heard  in  Tokyo. 

[My  first  opportunity  to  examine  an  d-stoni 
was  in  Shidzuoka.  Its  utterance  is  much  more 
complex  than  the  Japanese  onomatope  implies ; 
I  should  liken  it  to  the  noise  of  a  sewing- 
machine  in  full  operation.  There  is  a  double 
sound :  you  hear  not  only  the  succession  of 
sharp  metallic  clickings,  but  also,  below  these,  a 
slower  series  of  dull  clanking  tones.  The  stridu- 
latory  organs  are  light  green,  looking  almost 
like  a  pair  of  tiny  green  leaves  attached  to  the 
thorax.] 

III.  —  ABURAZEMI. 

THE  aburatfmi,  or  "  oil-semi,"  makes  its  ap 
pearance  early  in  the  summer.  I  am  told  that  it 
owes  its  name  to  the  fact  that  its  shrilling  resem 
bles  the  sound  of  oil  or  grease  frying  in  a  pan. 


PLATE  III. 
Abura^emi. 


S£mi  81 

Some  writers  say  that  the  shrilling  resembles  the 
sound  of  the  syllables  gacbarin-gacbarin  ;  but 
others  compare  it  to  the  noise  of  water  boiling. 
The  abura^mi  begins  to  chant  about  sunrise; 
then  a  great  soft  hissing  seems  to  ascend  from 
all  the  trees.  At  such  an  hour,  when  the  foliage 
of  woods  and  gardens  still  sparkles  with  dew, 
might  have  been  composed  the  following  verse, 
—  the  only  one  in  my  collection  relating  to  the 
abura^mi  :  — 

Ano  koe  d£ 

Tsuyu  ga  inochi  ka?  — 
Aburaze'mi  ! 

Speaking  with  that  voice,  has  the  dew  taken  life  ?  —  Only 
the  dburatfmi  ! 


IV.  — 

THE  mugi-kari-^mi,  or  "  barley  -harvest  semi," 
also  called  gosbiki-^tmi,  or  "  five-colored  semi," 
appears  early  in  the  summer.  It  makes  two 
distinct  sounds  in  different  keys,  resembling  the 
syllables  sbi-in,  sbin  —  cbi-i,  cbi-i. 

V.  —  HIGURASHI,  OR  "  KANA-KANA." 

THIS  insect,  whose  name  signifies  "  day-darken 
ing,"  is  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  Japanese 
6 


82  Shadowings 

cicadas.  It  is  not  the  finest  singer  among  them ; 
but  even  as  a  melodist  it  ranks  second  only  to 
the  tsuku-tsuku-bosbi.  It  is  the  special  minstrel 
of  twilight,  singing  only  at  dawn  and  sunset; 
whereas  most  of  the  other  semi  make  their  music 
only  in  the  full  blaze  of  day,  pausing  even  when 
rain -clouds  obscure  the  sun.  In  Tokyo  the 
bigurasbi  usually  appears  about  the  end  of  June, 
or  the  beginning  of  July.  Its  wonderful  cry, 
—  kana-hana-kana-hana-kana,  —  beginning  al 
ways  in  a  very  high  clear  key,  and  slowly 
descending,  is  almost  exactly  like  the  sound  of 
a  good  hand-bell,  very  quickly  rung.  It  is  not  a 
clashing  sound,  as  of  violent  ringing ;  it  is  quick, 
steady,  and  of  surprising  sonority.  I  believe  that 
a  single  bigurasbi  can  be  plainly  heard  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away;  yet,  as  the  old  Japanese  poet 
Yayu  observed,  "  no  matter  how  many  bigurasbi 
be  singing  together,  we  never  find  them  noisy." 
Though  powerful  and  penetrating  as  a  resonance 
of  metal,  the  bigurasbi's  call  is  musical  even  to 
the  degree  of  sweetness ;  and  there  is  a  peculiar 
melancholy  in  it  that  accords  with  the  hour  of 
gloaming.  But  the  most  astonishing  fact  in  re 
gard  to  the  cry  of  the  bigurasbi  is  the  individual 
quality  characterizing  the  note  of  each  insect. 


S£mi  8} 

No  two  UgurasU  sing  precisely  in  the  same  tone. 
If  you  hear  a  dozen  of  them  singing  at  once,  you 
will  find  that  the  timbre  of  each  voice  is  recog 
nizably  different  from  every  other.  Certain  notes 
ring  like  silver,  others  vibrate  like  bronze ;  and, 
besides  varieties  of  timbre  suggesting  bells  of  vari 
ous  weight  and  composition,  there  are  even  differ 
ences  in  tone,  that  suggest  different  forms  of  bell. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  name-  UgurasU 
means  "  day-darkening/'  —  in  the  sense  of  twi 
light,  gloaming,  dusk ;  and  there  are  many 
Japanese  verses  containing  plays  on  the  word,  — 
the  poets  affecting  to  believe,  as  in  the  following 
example,  that  the  crying  of  the  insect  hastens  the 
coming  of  darkness :  — 

Higurashi  ya  I 
Sute'te'oite'mo 
Kururu  hi  wo. 

0  Higurashi !  —  even  if  you  let  it  alone,  day  darkens  fast 
enough  1 

This,  intended  to  express  a  melancholy  mood, 
may  seem  to  the  Western  reader  far-fetched. 
But  another  little  poem  —  referring  to  the  effect 
of  the  sound  upon  the  conscience  of  an  idler — 
will  be  appreciated  by  any  one  accustomed  to  hear 
the  UgurasU.  I  may  observe,  in  this  connection, 


84  Shadowings 

that  the  first  clear  evening  cry  of  the  insect  is 
quite  as  startling  as  the  sudden  ringing  of  a 
bell:  — 

Higurashi  ya ! 

Kyo  no  k&ai  wo 

Omou-toki. 

—  RIKEI. 

Already,  0  Higurashi,  your  call  announces  the  evening  ! 
Alas,  for  the  passing  day,  with  its  duties  left  undone ! 

VI.  —  "  MlNMIN  "-ZEMI. 

THE  minmin-^emi  begins  to  sing  in  the  Period  of 
Greatest  Heat.  It  is  called  "  min-min  "  because 
its  note  is  thought  to  resemble  the  syllable 
"  min  "  repeated  over  and  over  again,  —  slowly  at 
first,  and  very  loudly;  then  more  and  more 
quickly  and  softly,  till  the  utterance  dies  away 
in  a  sort  of  buzz :  "  min  —  min  —  min-min- 
min-minminmin-dzftftft"  The  sound  is  plain 
tive,  and  not  unpleasing.  It  is  often  compared 
to  the  sound  of  the  voice  of  a  priest  chanting  the 
sutras. 

VII.  —  TSUKU-TSUKU-BOSHI. 

ON  the  day  immediately  following  the  Festival 
of  the  Dead,  by  the  old  Japanese  calendar1 

i  That  is  to  say,  upon  the  16th  day  of  the  7th  month. 


PLATE  IV. 


1-2,  Mngikari-Zemi,  also  called  Gosbikt-Zhm. 


4,    "  Min-Min-Zemi  ." 


S£mi  8? 

(which  is  incomparably  more  exact  than  our 
Western  calendar  in  regard  to  nature -changes 
and  manifestations),  begins  to  sing  the  tsuku- 
tsuku-bosU.  This  creature  may  be  said  to  sing 
like  a  bird.  It  is  also  called  kutsu-kutsu-boshi, 
choko-cboko-uisu,  tsuku-tsuku-bosbi,  tsuku- 
tsuku-oisU,  —  all  onomatopoetic  appellations. 
The  sounds  of  its  song  have  been  imitated  in 
different  ways  by  various  writers.  In  Izumo  the 
common  version  is, — 

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu, 
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu, 
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu :  — 

Ui-6su 

Ui-Osu 

Ui-5su 

Ui-6s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-su. 

Another  version  runs,  — 

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu, 

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu, 

•  Tsuku-tsuku-uisu:  — 

Chi-i  yara ! 

Chi-i  yara ! 

Chi-i  yara ! 

Chi-i,  chi,  chi,  chi,  chi,  chiii. 

But  some  say  that  the  sound  is   Tsukusbi- 
koisbi.    There  is  a  legend  that  in  old  times  a 


86  Shadowings 

man  of  Tsukushi  (the  ancient  name  of  Kyushu) 
fell  sick  and  died  while  far  away  from  home, 
and  that  the  ghost  of  him  became  an  autumn 
cicada,  which  cries  unceasingly,  Tsukushi-koishi ! 
—  TsukusU-kolsU  !  ("  I  long  for  Tsukushi !  —  I 
want  to  see  Tsukushi !  " ) 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  earlier  semi  have 
the  harshest  and  simplest  notes.  The  musical 
semi  do  not  appear  until  summer;  and  the 
tsuku-tsuku-boshi,  having  the  most  complex 
and  melodious  utterance  of  all,  is  one  of  the 
latest  to  mature. 

VIII.  —  TSURIGANE-SEMI.1 

THE  tsurigane-semi  is  an  autumn  cicada.  The 
word  tsurigane  means  a  suspended  bell, — espe 
cially  the  big  bell  of  a  Buddhist  temple.  I  am 
somewhat  puzzled  by  the  name ;  for  the  insect's 
music  really  suggests  the  tones  of  a  Japanese 
harp,  or  koto  —  as  good  authorities  declare. 
Perhaps  the  appellation  refers  not  to  the  boom 
of  the  bell,  but  to  those  deep,  sweet  hummings 
which  follow  after  the  peal,  wave  upon  wave. 

1  This  s&ni  appears  to  be  chiefly  known  in  Shikoku. 


S6mi  87 


III 


JAPANESE  poems  on  semi  are  usually  very 
brief ;  and  my  collection  chiefly  consists  of 
bokku,  —  compositions  of  seventeen  sylla 
bles.  Most  of  these  bokku  relate  to  the  sound 
made  by  the  semi,  —  or,  rather,  to  the  sensation 
which  the  sound  produced  within  the  poet's 
mind.  The  names  attached  to  the  following 
examples  are  nearly  all  names  of  old-time  poets, 
—  not  the  real  names,  of  course,  but  the  go,  or 
literary  names  by  which  artists  and  men  of 
letters  are  usually  known. 

Yokoi  Yayu,  a  Japanese  poet  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  celebrated  as  a  composer  of  hokku,  has 
left  us  this  naive  record  of  the  feelings  with 
which  he  heard  the  chirruping  of  cicadas  in 
summer  and  in  autumn:  — 

"  In  the  sultry  period,  feeling  oppressed  by  the 
greatness  of  the  heat,  I  made  this  verse:  — 

"  S£mi  atsushi 
Matsu  kirabaya  to 
Omou-made. 

[The  chirruping  of  the  semi  aggravates  the  heat  until  I 
wish  to  cut  down  the  pine-tree  on  which  it  sings.] 


88  Shadowings 

"  But  the  days  passed  quickly ;  and  later,  when 
I  heard  the  crying  of  the  semi  grow  fainter  and 
fainter  in  the  time  of  the  autumn  winds,  I  began 
to  feel  compassion  for  them,  and  I  made  this 
second  verse :  — 

"  Shini-nokore' 
Hitotsu  bakari  wa 
Aki  no  s&ni." 

[Now  there  survives 

But  a  single  one 

Of  the  s£mi  of  autumn !] 

Lovers  of  Pierre  Loti  (the  world's  greatest 
prose- writer)  may  remember  in  Madame  Chrys- 
antheme  a  delightful  passage  about  a  Japanese 
house,  —  describing  the  old  dry  woodwork  as 
impregnated  with  sonority  by  the  shrilling  crick 
ets  of  a  hundred  summers.1  There  is  a  Japan- 
ese  poem  containing  a  fancy  not  altogether 
dissimilar :  — 


i  Speaking  of  his  own  attempt  to  make  a  drawing  of 
the  interior,  he  observes :  "  II  manque  a  ce  logis  dessine' 
son  air  frgle  et  sa  sonorite'  de  violon  sec.  Dans  les  traits 
de  crayon  qui  represented  les  boiseries,  il  n'y  a  pas  la 
precision  minutieuse  avec  laquelle  elles  sont  ouvrag£es,  ni 
leur  antiquit^  extrgme,  ni  leur  proprete*  parfaite,  ni  les 
vibrations  de  ci gales  qu' elles  semblent  avoir  emmagasi nees  pen 
dant  des  centaines  d'ties  dans  lews  fibres  dessecbees" 


PLATE  V. 

1 ,  "  Tsnkti-tsiikn-Boshi"    also  called    "  Kutsu-kutsu- 

Bdshi"    etc.        (Cosmopsaltria  Opalifera  ?) 

2 ,  Tsurigane-Zenri. 

3,  The  Phantom. 


S£mi  89 

Matsu  no  ki  ni 
Shimikomu  gotoshi 
Se'mi  no  koe\ 

Into  the  wood  of  the  pine-tree 

Seems  to  soak 

The  voice  of  the  se'mi. 

A  very  large  number  of  Japanese  poems  about 
semi  describe  the  noise  of  the  creatures  as  an 
affliction.  To  fully  sympathize  with  the  com 
plaints  of  the  poets,  one  must  have  heard  certain 
varieties  of  Japanese  cicadas  in  full  midsummer 
chorus ;  but  even  by  readers  without  experience 
of  the  clamor,  the  following  verses  will  probably 
be  found  suggestive :  — 

Ware"  hitori 
Atsui  yd  nari,  — 
Se'mi  no  koe" ! 

— BUNSO. 

Meseems  that  only  I,— I  alone  among  mortals,— 
Ever  suffered  such  heat !  —oh,  the  noise  of  the  se'mi ! 

Ushiro  kara 
Tsukamu  yQ  nari,  — 
S&ni  no  kog. 

— JOFO. 

Oh,  the  noise  of  the  se'mi !  —  a  pain  of  invisible  seizure,  — 
Clutched  in  an  enemy's  grasp,— caught  by  the  hair  from 
behind ! 


90  Shadowings 

Yama  no  Kami  no 
Mimi  no  yamai  ka?— 

Se'mi  no  kog  ! 

—  TEIKOKU. 

What  ails  the  divinity's  ears?—  how  can  the  God  of  the 

Mountain 
Suffer  such  noise  to  exist  ?—  oh,  the  tumult  of  se'mi  ! 

Soko  no  nai 
Atsusa  ya  kumo  ni 

Se'mi  no  kog  ! 

—  SAREN. 

Fathomless  deepens  the  heat  :  the  ceaseless  shrilling  of  se'mi 
Mounts,  like  a  hissing  of  fire,  up  to  the  motionless  clouds. 

Mizu  kardtf, 
Se'mi  wo  fudan-no 

Taki  no  kog. 

—  GEN-U. 

Water  never  a  drop  :  the  chorus  of  se'mi,  incessant, 
Mocks  the  tumultuous  hiss,—  the  rush  and  foaming  of 
rapids. 

Kagfroishi 
Kumo  mata  satte", 
Se'mi  no  kog. 


Gone,  the  shadowing  clouds  !  —  again  the  shrilling  of  se'mi 
Rises  and  slowly  swells,  —  ever  increasing  the  heat  ! 

Daita  ki  wa, 
Ha  mo  ugokasazu,  — 

Se'mi  no  kog  ! 

—  KAFO. 

Somewhere  fast  to  the  bark  he  clung  ;  but  I  cannot  see  him  : 
He  stirs  not  even  a  leaf  —  oh  !  the  noise  of  that  se'mi  ! 


S£mi  91 

Tonari  kara 
Kono  ki  nikumu  ya  I 
Semi  no  ko£. 

—  GYUKAKU. 

All  because  of  the  se'mi  that  sit  and  shrill  on  its  branches  — 
Oh  I  how  this  tree  of  mine  is  hated  now  by  my  neighbor  ! 

This  reminds  one  of  Yayu.  We  find  another 
poet  compassionating  a  tree  frequented  by 
semi :  — 

Kaze'  wa  mina 

Se'mi  ni  suware'te', 

Hito-kikana! 

— CHOSUI. 

Alas  !  poor  solitary  tree !  —  pitiful  now  your  lot,  —  every 
breath  of  air  having  been  sucked  up  by  the  se'mi ! 

Sometimes  the  noise  of  the  semi  is  described  as 
a  moving  force :  — 

Se'mi  no  koe" 
Ki-gi  ni  ugoite', 
Kaze  mo  nashi ! 

-SOYO. 

Every  tree  in  the  wood  quivers  with  clamor  of  se'mi : 
Motion  only  of  noise  —  never  a  breath  of  wind  I 

Take"  ni  kitS, 

Yuki  yori  omoshi 

Se'mi  no  koe". 

—  TOGETSU. 


92  Shadowings 

More  heavy  than  winter-snow  the  voices  of  perching 

se'mi: 
See  how  the  bamboos  bend  under  the  weight  of  their 

song  !  l 

Morogoe"  ni 
Yama  ya  ugokasu, 

Ki-gi  no  semi. 

All  shrilling  together,  the  multitudinous  se'mi 
Make,  with  their  ceaseless  clamor,  even  the  mountain 
move. 

Kusunoki  mo 
Ugoku  yo  nari, 

Se'mi  no  kog. 

—  BAIJAKU. 

Even  the  camphor-tree  seems  to  quake  with  the  clamor 
of  se'mi  ! 

Sometimes  the  sound  is  compared  to  the  noise 
of  boiling  water  :  — 

Hizakari  wa 
Ni&atsu  se'mi  no 
Hayashi  kana! 

In  the  hour  of  heaviest  heat,  how  simmers  the  forest 
with  se'mi  ! 


iru 
Mizu  bakari  nari  — 

Semi  no  koe. 

—  TAIMU. 

1  Japanese  artists  have  found  many  a  charming  inspira 
tion  in  the  spectacle  of  bamboos  bending  under  the  weight 
of  snow  clinging  to  their  tops. 


S£mi  9? 


Simmers  all  the  air  with  sibilation  of  se'mi, 

Ceaseless,  wearying  sense,  —  a  sound  of  perpetual  boiling. 

Other  poets  complain  especially  of  the  multi 
tude  of  the  noise -makers  and  the  ubiquity  of  the 

noise :  — 

Aritake'  no 
Ki  ni  hibiki-ke'ri 
Se'mi  no  kog. 

How  many  soever  the  trees,  in  each  rings  the  voice  of 
the  se'mi. 

Matsubara  wo 
Ichi  ri  wa  kitari, 
Se'mi  no  kog. 

—  SENGA. 

Alone  I  walked  for  miles  into  the  wood  of  pine-trees : 
Always  the  one  same  se'mi  shrilled  its  call  in  my  ears. 

Occasionally  the  subject  is  treated  with  comic 
exaggeration :  — 

Naite*  iru 
Ki  yori  mo  f utoshi 

Se'mi  no  kog. 

The  voice  of  the  se'mi  is  bigger  [thicker]  than  the  tree  on 
which  it  sings. 

Sugi  takashi 
SareMomo  se'mi  no 

Amaru  kog ! 

High  though  the  cedar  be,  the  voice  of  the  se'mi  is  in 
comparably  higher ! 


94  Shadowings 

Kog  nagaki 
Se'mi  wa  mijikaki 

Inochi  kana  1 

How  long,  alas !  the  voice  and  how  short  the  life  of  the 
se'mi! 

Some  poets  celebrate  the  negative  form  of 
pleasure  following  upon  the  cessation  of  the 
sound : — 

Se'mi  ni  d&e', 
Hotaru  ni  modoru, — 

Suzumi  kana! 

—  YAYO. 

When  the  se'mi  cease  their  noise,  and  the  fireflies  come 
out  —  oh !  how  refreshing  the  hour ! 

Se'mi  no  tatsu, 
Ato  suzushisa  yo  I 

Matsu  no  koe\ 

—  BAIJAKU. 

When  the  se'mi  cease  their  storm,  oh,  how  refreshing  the 

stillness ! 
Gratefully  then  resounds  the  musical  speech  of  the  pines. 

[Here  I  may  mention,  by  the  way,  that  there 
is  a  little  Japanese  song  about  the  matsu  no  koe, 
in  which  the  onomatope  "zazanza"  very  well 
represents  the  deep  humming  of  the  wind  in  the 

pine-needles :  — 

Zazanza ! 

Hama-matsu  no  oto  wa,  — 
Zazanza, 
Zazanza  I 


S£mi  9? 


Zazanza ! 

The  sound  of  the  pines  of  the  shore,  — 
Zazanza ! 
Zazanza ! ] 

There  are  poets,  however,  who  declare  that  the 
feeling  produced  by  the  noise  of  semi  depends 
altogether  upon  the  nervous  condition  of  the 
listener :  — 

Mori  no  se'mi 
Suzushiki  kog  ya, 
Atsuki  kog. 

— OTSUSHU. 

Sometimes  sultry  the  sound ;  sometimes,  again,  refreshing : 
The  chant  of  the  forest-se'mi  accords  with  the  hearer's 
mood. 

p 

Suzushisa  mo 
Atsusa  mo  se'mi  no 
Tokoro  kana  !• 

—  FUHAKU. 

Sometimes  we  think  it  cool,  —  the  resting-place  of  the 
se'mi ;  — sometimes  we  think  it  hot  (it  is  all  a  matter  of 
fancy). 

Suzushii  to 
Omoe'ba,  suzushi 
Se'mi  no  kog. 
—  GINKO. 

If  we  think  it  is  cool,  then  the  voice  of  the  se'mi  is  cool 
(that  is,  the  fancy  changes  the  feeling). 


96  Shadowings 

In  view  of  the  many  complaints  of  Japanese 
poets  about  the  noisiness  of  semi,  the  reader  may 
be  surprised  to  learn  that  out  of  semi-skins  there 
used  to  be  made  in  both  China  and  Japan  —  per 
haps  upon  homoeopathic  principles  —  a  medicine 
for  the  cure  of  ear-ache! 

One  poem,  nevertheless,  proves  that  semi- 
music  has  its  admirers:  — 

Omoshiroi  zo  ya, 
Waga-ko  no  kog  wa 
Takai  mori-ki  no 

Semi  no  kog ! l 

Sweet  to  the  ear  is  the  voice  of  one's  own  child  as  the 
voice  of  a  s^mi  perched  on  a  tall  forest  tree. 

But  such  admiration  is  rare.  More  frequently 
the  semi  is  represented  as  crying  for  its  nightly 
repast  of  dew:  — 


1  There  is  another  version  of  this  poem :  — 

Omoshiroi  zo  ya, 
Waga-ko  no  naku  wa 
Sembu-segaki  no 

Kyo  yori  mo ! 

"More  sweetly  sounds  the  crying  of  one's  own  child 
than  even  the  chanting  of  the  sQtra  in  the  service  for  the 
dead."  The  Buddhist  service  alluded  to  is  held  to  be  par 
ticularly  beautiful. 


Semi  97 


Se'mi  wo  kike',— 
Ichi-nichi  naite' 
Yoru  no  tsuyu. 

—  KIKAKU. 

Hear  the  se'mi  shrill !    So,  from  earliest  dawning, 
All  the  summer  day  he  cries  for  the  dew  of  night. 

Yu-tsuyu  no 
Kuchi  ni  iru  made' 
Naku  se'mi  ka  ? 

—  BAISHITSU. 

Will  the  se'mi  continue  to  cry  till  the  night-dew  fills  its 
mouth  ? 


Occasionally  the  semi  is  mentioned  in  love- 
songs  of  which  the  following  is  a  fair  specimen. 
It  belongs  to  that  class  of  ditties  commonly  sung 
by  geisha.  Merely  as  a  conceit,  I  think  it  pretty, 
in  spite  of  the  factitious  pathos ;  but  to  Japanese 
taste  it  is  decidedly  vulgar.  The  allusion  to 
beating  implies  jealousy:  — 

Nushi  ni  tatakare*, 
Washa  matsu  no  se'mi 
Sugaritsuki-tsuki 
Naku  bakari ! 

Beaten  by  my  jealous  lover,  — 
Like  the  se'mi  on  the  pine-tree 
I  can  only  cry  and  cling ! 


98  Shadowings 

And  indeed  the  following  tiny  picture  is  a  truer 
bit  of  work,  according  to  Japanese  art-principles 
(I  do  not  know  the  author's  name)  :  — 


S&ni  hitotsu 
Matsu  no  yu-hi  wo 


Lo  !  on  the  topmost  pine,  a  solitary  cicada 
Vainly  attempts  to  clasp  one  last  red  beam  of  sun. 


IV 


PHILOSOPHICAL   verses  do  not  form  a 
numerous  class  of  Japanese  poems  upon 
semi;  but  they  possess  an  interest  alto 
gether  exotic.     As  the  metamorphosis  of  the 
butterfly   supplied  to    old    Greek    thought   an 
emblem  of  the  soul's  ascension,  so  the  natural 
history  of  the  cicada  has  furnished  Buddhism 
with  similitudes  and  parables  for  the  teaching  of 
doctrine. 

Man  sheds  his  body  only  as  the  semi  sheds 
its  skin.  But  each  reincarnation  obscures  the 
memory  of  the  previous  one :  we  remember  our 
former  existence  no  more  than  the  semi  remem 
bers  the  shell  from  which  it  has  emerged.  Often 


S£mi  99 

a  semi  may  be  found  in  the  act  of  singing 
beside  its  cast-off  skin;  therefore  a  poet  has 
written :  — 

War£  to  waga 
Kara  ya  tomuro  — 
S&ni  no  kog. 

-YAYU. 

Methinks  that  se'mi  sits  and  sings  by  his  former  body,  — 
Chanting  the  funeral  service  over  his  own  dead  self. 

This  cast-off  skin,  or  simulacrum,  —  clinging 
to  bole  or  branch  as  in  life,  and  seeming  still 
to  stare  with  great  glazed  eyes,  —  has  suggested 
many  things  both  to  profane  and  to  religious 
poets.  In  love -songs  it  is  often  likened  to  a  body 
consumed  by  passionate  longing.  In  Buddhist 
poetry  it  becomes  a  symbol  of  earthly  pomp,  — 
the  hollow  show  of  human  greatness :  — 

Yo  no  naka  yo 

KaSru  no  hadaka, 

Se'mi  no  kinu ! 

Naked  as  frogs  and  weak  we  enter  this  life  of  trouble ; 
Shedding  our  pomps  we  pass :  so  se'mi  quit  their  skins. 

But  sometimes  the  poet  compares  the  winged 
and  shrilling  semi  to  a  human  ghost,  and  the 
broken  shell  to  the  body  left  behind:  — 


100  Shadowings 

Tamashii  wa 
Ukiyo  ni  nait£, 
Se'mi  no  kara. 

Here  the  forsaken  shell :  above  me  the  voice  of  the  creature 
Shrills  like  the  cry  of  a  Soul  quitting  this  world  of  pain. 

Then  the  great  sun-quickened  tumult  of  the 
cicadas  —  landstorm  of  summer  life  foredoomed 
so  soon  to  pass  away  —  is  likened  by  preacher 
and  poet  to  the  tumult  of  human  desire.  Even 
as  the  semi  rise  from  earth,  and  climb  to  warmth 
and  light,  and  clamor,  and  presently  again  return 
to  dust  and  silence,  —  so  rise  and  clamor  and 
pass  the  generations  of  men :  — 

Yagat£  shinu 
Keshiki  wa  mi&u, 

Se'mi  no  koe". 

—  BASHO. 

Never  an  intimation  in  all  those  voices  of  Se'mi 
How  quickly  the  hush  will  come,  —  how  speedily  all  must 
die. 

I  wonder  whether  the  thought  in  this  little 
verse  does  not  interpret  something  of  that  sum 
mer  melancholy  which  comes  to  us  out  of 
nature's  solitudes  with  the  plaint  of  insect-voices. 
Unconsciously  those  millions  of  millions  of  tiny 
beings  are  preaching  the  ancient  wisdom  of  the 
East,  —  the  perpetual  Sutra  of  Impermanency. 


S£mi  101 

Yet  how  few  of  our  modern  poets  have  given 
heed  to  the  voices  of  insects ! 

Perhaps  it  is  only  to  minds  inexorably  haunted 
by  the  Riddle  of  Life  that  Nature  can  speak  to 
day,  in  those  thin  sweet  trillings,  as  she  spake 
of  old  to  Solomon. 

The  Wisdom  of  the  East  hears  all  things. 
And  he  that  obtains  it  will  hear  the  speech  of 
insects,  —  as  Sigurd,  tasting  the  Dragon's  Heart, 
heard  suddenly  the  talking  of  birds. 


NOTE.  —  For  the  pictures  of  s£mi  accompanying  this  paper,  I  am 
indebted  to  a  curious  manuscript  work  in  several  volumes,  preserved  in 
the  Imperial  Library  at  Uy6no.  The  work  is  entitled  Cbufu-Zusetsu, 
—  which  might  be  freely  rendered  as  "  Pictures  and  Descriptions  of  In 
sects,"  —  and  is  divided  into  twelve  books.  The  writer's  name  is  un 
known  ;  but  he  must  have  been  an  amiable  and  interesting  person,  to 
judge  from  the  nai've  preface  which  he  wrote,  apologizing  for  the  labors 
of  a  lifetime.  "  When  I  was  young,"  he  says,  "  I  was  very  fond  of 
catching  worms  and  insects,  and  making  pictures  of  their  shapes,  —  so 
that  these  pictures  have  now  become  several  hundred  in  number."  He 
believes  that  he  has  found  a  good  reason  for  studying  insects : 
"Among  the  multitude  of  living  creatures  in  this  world,"  he  says, 
"those  having  large  bodies  are  familiar:  we  know  very  well  their 
names,  shapes,  and  virtues,  and  the  poisons  which  they  possess.  But 
there  remain  very  many  small  creatures  whose  natures  are  still  un 
known,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  such  little  beings  as  insects  and 
worms  are  able  to  injure  men  and  to  destroy  what  has  value.  So  I 
think  that  it  is  very  important  for  us  to  learn  what  insects  or  worms 
have  special  virtues  or  poisons."  It  appears  that  he  had  sent  to  him 
"  from  other  countries  "  some  kinds  of  insects  "  that  eat  the  leaves  and 
shoots  of  trees ;  "  but  he  could  not  "  get  their  exact  names."  For  the 
names  of  domestic  insects,  he  consulted  many  Chinese  and  Japanese 
books,  and  has  been  "  able  to  write  the  names  with  the  proper  Chinese 
characters  ;  "  but  he  tells  us  that  he  did  not  fail  "  to  pick  up  also  the 


102  Shadowings 

names  given  to  worms  and  insects  by  old  farmers  and  little  boys."  The 
preface  is  dated  thus:  —  "  Amci  Kanote,  the  third  month  —  at  a  little 
cottage  "  [1856]. 

With  the  introduction  of  scientific  studies  the  author  of  the  Chufu- 
Zusetsu  could  no  longer  hope  to  attract  attention.  Yet  his  very  modest 
and  very  beautiful  work  was  forgotten  only  a  moment.  It  is  now  a 
precious  curiosity  ;  and  the  old  man's  ghost  might  to-day  find  some 
happiness  in  a  visit  to  the  Imperial  Library. 


Japanese  Female  Names 


Japanese  Female  Names 


I 


BY  the  Japanese  a  certain  kind  of  girl  is 
called  a  Rose-Girl,  —  Bara-Musume.  Per 
haps  my  reader  will  think  of  Tennyson's 
"  queen-rose  of  the  rosebud-garden  of  girls," 
and  imagine  some  analogy  between  the  Japanese 
and  the  English  idea  of  femininity  symbolized 
by  the  rose.  But  there  is  no  analogy  whatever. 
The  Bara-Musume  is  not  so  called  because  she 
is  delicate  and  sweet,  nor  because  she  blushes, 
nor  because  she  is  rosy ;  indeed,  a  rosy  face  is 
not  admired  in  Japan.  No  ;  she  is  compared  to 
a  rose  chiefly  for  the  reason  that  a  rose  has 
thorns.  The  man  who  tries  to  pull  a  Japanese 
rose  is  likely  to  hurt  his  fingers.  The  man  who 
tries  to  win  a  Bara-Musume  is  apt  to  hurt  him 
self  much  more  seriously,  —  even  unto  death. 
105 


106  Shadowings 

It  were  better,  alone  and  unarmed,  to  meet  a  tiger 
than  to  invite  the  caress  of  a  Rose-Girl. 

Now  the  appellation  of  Bara-Musume  —  much 
more  rational  as  a  simile  than  many  of  our  own 
floral  comparisons  —  can  seem  strange  only  be 
cause  it  is  riot  in  accord  with  our  poetical  usages 
and  emotional  habits.  It  is  one  in  a  thousand 
possible  examples  of  the  fact  that  Japanese  sim 
iles  and  metaphors  are  not  of  the  sort  that  he 
who  runs  may  read.  And  this  fact  is  particularly 
well  exemplified  in  tht  yobina,  or  personal  names 
of  Japanese  women.  Because  a  yobina  happens 
to  be  identical  with  the  name  of  some  tree,  or 
bird,  or  flower,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  per 
sonal  appellation  conveys  to  Japanese  imagination 
ideas  resembling  those  which  the  corresponding 
English  word  would  convey,  under  like  circum 
stances,  to  English  imagination.  Of  the  yobina 
that  seem  to  us  especially  beautiful  in  translation, 
only  a  small  number  are  bestowed  for  aesthetic 
reasons.  Nor  is  it  correct  to  suppose,  as  many 
persons  still  do,  that  Japanese  girls  are  usually 
named  after  flowers,  or  graceful  shrubs,  or  other 
beautiful  objects.  ^Esthetic  appellations  are  in 
use ;  but  the  majority  of  yobina  are  not  aesthetic. 
Some  years  ago  a  young  Japanese  scholar  pub- 


Japanese  Female  Names        107 

lished  an  interesting  essay  upon  this  subject.  He 
had  collected  the  personal  names  of  about  four 
hundred  students  of  the  Higher  Normal  School 
for  Females,  —  girls  from  every  part  of  the  Em 
pire  ;  and  he  found  on  his  list  only  between 
fifty  and  sixty  names  possessing  aesthetic  quality. 
But  concerning  even  these  he  was  careful  to 
observe  only  that  they  "  caused  an  aesthetic  sen 
sation," —  not  that  they  had  been  given  for 
aesthetic  reasons.  Among  them  were  such  names 
as  Saki  (Cape),  Mine  (Peak),  Kisbi  (Beach), 
Hama  (Shore) ,  Kuni  (Capital) ,  —  originally 
place-names; —  Tsuru  (Stork),  Ta%u  (Ricefield 
Stork) ,  and  Cbi^u  (Thousand  Storks) ;  —  also 
such  appellations  as  Yoshtno  (Fertile  Field), 
Orino  (Weavers'  Field),  Sbirushi  (Proof),  and 
Masago  (Sand).  Few  of  these  could  seem 
aesthetic  to  a  Western  mind ;  and  probably  no 
one  of  them  was  originally  given  for  aesthetic 
reasons.  Names  containing  the  character  for 
"  Stork  "  are  names  having  reference  to  longev 
ity,  not  to  beauty  ;  and  a  large  number  of  names 
with  the  termination  "  no  "  (field  or  plain)  are 
names  referring  to  moral  qualities.  I  doubt 
whether  even  fifteen  per  cent  of  yobina  are 
really  aesthetic.  A  very  much  larger  proportion 


108  Shadowings 

are  names  expressing  moral  or  mental  qualities. 
Tenderness,  kindness,  deftness,  cleverness,  are  fre 
quently  represented  by  yobina  ;  but  appellations 
implying  physical  charm,  or  suggesting  aesthetic 
ideas  only,  are  comparatively  uncommon.  One 
reason  for  the  fact  may  be  that  very  aesthetic 
names  are  given  to  geisha  and  to  joro,  and  conse 
quently  vulgarized.  But  the  chief  reason  cer 
tainly  is  that  the  domestic  virtues  still  occupy  in 
Japanese  moral  estimate  a  place  not  less  impor 
tant  than  that  accorded  to  religious  faith  in  the 
life  of  our  own  Middle  Ages.  Not  in  theory  only, 
but  in  every-day  practice,  moral  beauty  is  placed 
far  above  physical  beauty ;  and  girls  are  usually 
selected  as  wives,  not  for  their  good  looks,  but  for 
their  domestic  qualities.  Among  the  middle 
classes  a  very  aesthetic  name  would  not  be  con 
sidered  in  the  best  taste;  among  the  poorer 
classes,  it  would  scarcely  be  thought  respectable. 
Ladies  of  rank,  on  the  other  hand,  are  privileged 
to  bear  very  poetical  names ;  yet  the  majority 
of  the  aristocratic  yobina  also  are  moral  rather 
than  aesthetic. 

But  the  first  great  difficulty  in  the  way  of  a 
study  of  yobina  is  the  difficulty  of  translating 


Japanese  Female  Names        109 

them.  A  knowledge  of  spoken  Japanese  can 
help  you  very  little  indeed.  A  knowledge  of 
Chinese  also  is  indispensable.  The  meaning  of  a 
name  written  in  kana  only,  —  in  the  Japanese 
characters,  —  cannot  be,  in  most  cases,  even 
guessed  at.  The  Chinese  characters  of  the  name 
can  alone  explain  it.  The  Japanese  essayist,  al 
ready  referred  to,  found  himself  obliged  to  throw 
out  no  less  than  thirty-six  names  out  of  a  list 
of  two  hundred  and  thirteen,  simply  because 
these  thirty-six,  having  been  recorded  only  in 
kana,  could  not  be  interpreted.  Kana  give  only 
the  pronunciation ;  and  the  pronunciation  of  a 
woman's  name  explains  nothing  in  a  majority  of 
cases.  Transliterated  into  Romaji,  a  yobina  may 
signify  two,  three,  or  even  half-a-dozen  different 
things.  One  of  the  names  thrown  out  of  the 
list  was  Banka.  Banka  might  signify  "Mint" 
(the  plant),  which  would  be  a  pretty  name ;  but 
it  might  also  mean  "  Evening-haze."  Yuka, 
another  rejected  name,  might  be  an  abbreviation 
of  Yukabutsu,  "  precious  " ;  but  it  might  just  as 
well  mean  "  a  floor."  NoM,  a  third  example, 
might  signify  "  future  "  ;  yet  it  could  also  mean 
"  a  descendant,"  and  various  other  things.  My 
reader  will  be  able  to  find  many  other  homonyms 


110  Shadowings 

in  the  lists  of  names  given  further  on.  Ai  in 
Romaji,  for  instance,  may  signify  either  "  love  " 
or  "  indigo-blue  " ;  —  Cbo, "  a  butterfly,"  or  "  su 
perior,"  or  "  long  " ;  —  £/,  either  "  sagacious  "  or 
"  blooming  "  ;  —  Kei,  either  "  rapture  "  or  "  rev 
erence  "  ;  —  Sato,  either  "  native  home  "  or 
"  sugar  "  ;  —  Toshi,  either  "  year  "  or  "  arrow 
head  "  ;  •—  Taha,  "  tall,"  "  honorable,"  or  "  fal 
con."  The  chief,  and,  for  the  present,  insuperable 
obstacle  to  the  use  of  Roman  letters  in  writing 
Japanese,  is  the  prodigious  number  of  homonyms 
in  the  language.  You  need  only  glance  into  any 
good  Japanese-English  dictionary  to  understand 
the  gravity  of  this  obstacle.  Not  to  multiply 
examples,  I  shall  merely  observe  that  there  are 
nineteen  words  spelled  cho  ;  twenty-one  spelled 
ki ;  twenty-five  spelled  to  or  to;  and  no  less 
than  forty-nine  spelled  ho  or  ko. 

Yet,  as  I  have  already  suggested,  the  real  signi 
fication  of  a  woman's  name  cannot  be  ascertained 
even  from  a  literal  translation  made  with  the 
help  of  the  Chinese  characters.  Such  a  name, 
for  instance,  as  Kagami  (Mirror)  really  signifies 
the  Pure-Minded,  and  this  not  in  the  Occidental, 
but  in  the  Confucian  sense  of  the  term.  Ume 


Japanese  Female  Names       111 

(Plum-blossom)  is  a  name  referring  to  wifely 
devotion  and  virtue.  Matsu  (Pine)  does  not 
refer,  as  an  appellation,  to  the  beauty  of  the  tree, 
but  to  the  fact  that  its  evergreen  foliage  is  the 
emblem  of  vigorous  age.  The  name  Take  (Bam 
boo)  is  given  to  a  child  only  because  the  bamboo 
has  been  for  centuries  a  symbol  of  good -fortune. 
The  name  Sen  (Wood-fairy)  sounds  charmingly  to 
Western  fancy ;  yet  it  expresses  nothing  more  than 
the  parents'  hope  of  long  life  for  their  daughter 
and  her  offspring,  —  wood-fairies  being  supposed 
to  live  for  thousands  of  years.  .  .  .  Again,  many 
names  are  of  so  strange  a  sort  that  it  is  impossi 
ble  to  discover  their  meaning  without  questioning 
either  the  bearer  or  the  giver ;  and  sometimes  all 
inquiry  proves  vain,  because  the  original  meaning 
has  been  long  forgotten. 

Before  attempting  to  go  further  into  the  sub 
ject,  I  shall  here  offer  a  translation  of  the  Tokyo 
essayist's  list  of  names,  —  rearranged  in  alpha 
betical  order,  without  honorific  prefixes  or  suf 
fixes.  Although  some  classes  of  common  names 
are  not  represented,  the  list  will  serve  to  show 
the  character  of  many  still  popular  ydbinay  and 
also  to  illustrate  several  of  the  facts  to  which 
I  have  already  called  attention. 


112 


Shadowings 


SELECTED   NAMES   OF  STUDENTS  AND  GRADUATES 

OF  THE  HIGHER  NORMAL  SCHOOL  FOR 

FEMALES  (1880-1895)  :  - 


so  named. 

Ai     ...    ("Indigo,"—  the  color)     .....  1 

Ai     ...    ("Love")   ..........  1 

Akasuke.    .    ("  The  Bright  Helper  ")  ......  l 

Asa  .    .    .    ("Morning")  .........  1 

Asa  .    .    .    ("Shallow")'i  .........  2 

Au    .    .    .    ("Meeting")    .........  2 

Bun  .    .    .    ("Composition"—  in  the  literary  sense)2  l 

Cbika     .    .    ("Near")  a  ..........  5 

Cbitose  .    .    ("A  Thousand  Years  ")  .    .....  l 

Chiyo     .    .    ("A  Thousand  Generations")      .    .    .  l 

Cbifu     .    .    ("Thousand  Storks")   ......  l 

G&ff  .     .     .    ("Butterfly")  .........  1 

Cbs  .    .    .    ("Superior")  .........  2 

Ei      ...    ("Clever")      .........  l 

Ei      ...    ("Blooming")      ........  2 

Etsu  .    .    .    ("Delight")     .........  1 

Fude.    .    .    ("Writing-brush")   .......  l 

Fuji  .    .    .    ("Fuji,"—  the  mountain)   .....  l 

Fuji  .    .    .    ("Wistaria-flower")  .......  2 

Fuki  .    .    .    ("  Fuki,"  —  name  of  a  plant,  Nardosmia 

Japonica)   .........  1 

Fuku  .    .    .    ("  Good-fortune  ")    .......  2 

Fumi.    .    .    ("Letter")*    .........  S 

Fumino  .    .    ("Letter-field")    ........  1 

»  Probably  a  place-name  originally. 

2  Might  we  not  quaintly  say,  "  A  Fair  Writing  "  ? 

3  Probably  in  the  sense  of  "  near  and  dear  "  —  but  not  certainly  so. 
*  Fumi  signifies  here  a  letter  written  by  a  woman  only  —  a  letter 

written  according  to  the  rules  of  feminine  epistolary  style. 


Japanese  Female  Names        11? 

Fusa  .    .  .  ("Tassel")  .    .    %    .    . 3 

Gin    .    .  .  ("Silver")  ..........  2 

Hama     .  .  ("Shore") 3 

Hana      .  .  ("Blossom") 3 

Harm    .  .  ("Spring-time  Bay") 1 

Hatsu     .  .  ("  The  First-born ")  .......  2 

Hide.    .  .  ("Excellent") 4 

Hide  .     .  .  ("  Fruitful ") 2 

Hisano    .  .  ("  Long  Plain ") 2 

IcU    .    .  .  ("Market") 4 

Iku    .    .  .  ("  Nourishing ") 3 

M     .    .  .  ("Springing  Rice") 3 

Isbi    .    .  .  ("Stone") 1 

Ho     ...  ("Thread")     ..........  4 

Iwa    .    .  .  ("Rock") ....  1 

Jun    .    .  .  ("The  Obedient")1. l 

Kagami  .  .  ("Mirror") 3 

Kama     .  .  ("Sickle") 1 

Kami     .  .  ("Tortoise") 2 

Kameyo  .  .  ("  Generations-of-the-Tortoise " ) 2    .    .  1 

Kan  .    .  .  ("The  Forbearing") 3 11 

Kana      .  .  ("  Character  "  —  in  the  sense  of  written 

character)4 2 

Kane.     .  .  ("Bronze") 3 

i  Jun  suru  means  to  be  obedient  unto  death.  The  word  fun  has  a 
much  stronger  signification  than  that  which  attaches  to  our  word 
"  obedience  "  in  these  modern  times. 

8  The  tortoise  is  supposed  to  live  for  a  thousand  years. 

3  Abbreviation  of  kannin,  "  forbearance,"  "  self-control,"  etc.    The 
name  might  equally  well  be  translated  "  Patience." 

4  Kana  signifies  the  Japanese  syllabary,  —  the   characters   with 
which  the  language  is  written.    The  reader  may  imagine,  if  he  wishes, 
that  the  name  signifies  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  all  feminine  charm  ; 
but  I  confess  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  any  satisfactory  expla 
nation  of  it. 

8 


114 


Shadowings 


Katsu  .  .    ("Victorious") 2 

Ka^ashi  .  .  ("Hair-pin,"  —  or  any  ornament  worn 

in  the  hair) 1 

Kay*  .  .  ("Number,"— i.e., "great  number")    .  i 

Kei    .  .  .    ("The  Respectful") 3 

Ken   .  .  .    ("Humility") 1 

Kiku.  .  .    ("Chrysanthemum") 6 

KikuV  .  .  ("Chrysanthemum-branch").    .    .    .  1 

Kikuno  .  .    ("  Chrysanthemum-field ") 1 

Kind.  .  .    ("Sovereign") 1 

Kin    .  .  .    ("Gold") 4 

Kinu.  .  .    ("Cloth-of-Silk") 1 

Kisbi  .  .    ("Beach") 2 

Kiyo  .  .  .    ("  Happy  Generations ") 1 

Kiyo.  .  .    ("Pure") 5 

Ko     .  .  .  ("  Chime,"  —  the  sound  of  a  bell)     .    .  1 

K5    .  .  .    ("Filial  Piety") 11 

KS    .  .  .    ("The  Fine") 1 

Koma  .  .    ("Filly") 1 

Kome  .  .    ("  Cleaned  Rice ") l 

Koto  .  .  .  ("Koto,"— the  Japanese  harp)    ...  4 

Kuma  .  .    ("Bear") 

Kumi  .  .    ("Braid") 

Kuni.  .  .    ("Capital,"  — chief  city) 

Kuni.  .  .    ("Province") 

Kura.  .  .    ("Treasure-house") 

Kurano  .  .    ("Storehouse-field") 

Kurt.  .  .    ("Chestnut") 

Kuwa  .  .    ("Mulberry-tree") 

Masa  .  .  ("  Straightforward,"  —  upright)    ...  3 

Masago  .  .    ("Sand") 1 

Masu  .  .    ("Increase") 3 

Masut  .  .    ("  Branch-of-Increase ") l 

Matsu  .    ("Pine") 2 


Japanese  Female  Names        11? 

Matsiti  .  .  ("Pine-branch") 1 

Micbi  .  .  ("The  Way,"  — doctrine) 4 

Mtt  .  .  .  ("Triple  Branch") 1 

Miki't  .  .  ("Main-branch") 1 

Mine  .  .  .  ("Peak") 2 

Mitsu  .  .  ("Light") 5 

Mitsus  .  .  ("Shining  Branch") 1 

Morti  .  .  ("Service-Bay")1 1 

Naka  .  .  ("  The  Midmost ") 4 

Nami  .  .  ("Wave") 1 

Nobu.  .  .  ("Fidelity") 6 

Nobu.  .  .  ("TheProlonger")2 1 

Nobut  .  .  ("Lengthening-branch") 1 

Nut    .  .  .  ("  Tapestry,"  —  or,  Embroidery)  .    .    .  1 

Orino  .  .  ("Weaving-Field") 1 

Raku.  .  .  ("Pleasure") 3 

Ren   .  .  .  ("The  Arranger") 1 

Riku  .  .  .  ("  Land,"  —  ground) 1 

Roku.  .  .  ("Emolument") 1 

Ryo   .  .  .  ("Dragon") 1 

Ryu  .  .  .  ("Lofty") 3 

Sada.  .  .  ("The  Chaste")  ....;...  8 

Saki  .  .  .  ("Cape,"  —  promontory) 1 

Saku  .  .  .  ("Composition")8 3 

Sato  .  .  .  ("  Home,"  —  native  place) 2 

Sawa.  .  .  ("Marsh") 1 

Set     .  .  .  ("Force") 1 

Sekt  .  .  .  ("Barrier,"  — city-gate,  toll-gate,  etc.)  .  3 


1  The  word  "  service  "  here  refers  especially  to  attendance  at  meal 
time,  —.to  the  serving  of  rice,  etc. 

2  Perhaps  in  the  hopeful  meaning  of  extending  the  family-line ;  but 
more  probably  in  the  signification  that  a  daughter's  care  prolongs  the 
life  of  her  parents,  or  of  her  husband's  parents. 

3  Abbreviation  of  sakubun,  a  literary  composition. 


116 


Shadowings 


("Fairy")! ,:j:j 

("  True,"  —  tender  and  true)   .    .    .    .2 

("The  Calmer") 1 

("Peace") 2 

("Two-fold") 2 

("Deer") 2 

("Deer-Inlet") 1 

("The  Clasp,"— fastening)     .    .    .    .  1 

("Truth") 1 

("Goods") 1 

("Virtue") 1 

("Slender  Bamboo") 1 

("  The  Proof,"  —  evidence)     ....  1 

("  The  Excellent ") 1 

("The  Last") 2 

("  Cedar,"  —  cryptomeria)      .    .    .    .  l 

("Forsaken," — foundling)      .    .    .    .  1 

("Little  Bell") 8 

("Tin") 1 

("Branch  of  Little  Bells") 1 

("Exquisite") 1 

("Honor") 2 

("Lofty") 9 

("Bamboo") l 

("Jewel") l 

("Ring") 1 

("For-the-Sake-of— ") 3 

("Valley") l 

("Ricefield-Stork") l 

1  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  have  no  English  equivalent  for  the  word 
"  sen,"  or  "  sennin,"  —  signifying  a  being  possessing  magical  powers 
of  all  kinds  and  living  for  thousands  of  years.  Some  authorities  con 
sider  the  belief  In  sennin  of  Indian  origin,  and  probably  derived  from  old 
traditions  of  the  Rishi. 


Japanese  Female  Names  117 

Tetsu     .  .     ("Iron") 4 

Toku      .  .    ("Virtue") 2 

Tome     .  .    ("Stop,"— cease)i 1 

70m*      .  .    ("Riches") 3 

Tomij u  .  .  ("Wealth-and-Longevity")      ....  l 

Tamo     .  .    ("The  Friend") 4 

Tora.     .  .    ("Tiger") 1 

Tosbi     .  .    ("Arrowhead") .  1 

Toyo .     .  .    ("Abundance") 3 

Tsugi     .  .  ("  Next,"  —  i.  e.,  second  in   order    of 

birth) .  2 

Tsuna    .  .  ("  Bond,"  —  rope,  or  fetter)     ....  1 

Tsune     .  .  ("  The  Constant,"  —  or,  as  we  should 

say,  Constance) 10 

Tsuru     .  .    ("Stork") 4 

Ume  .     .  .    ("Plum-blossom") 1 

Umega'6  .  .    ("  Plumtree-spray " ) 1 

Umeno    .  .    ("  Plumtree-field ") 2 

Urano    .  .    ("Shore-field") 1 

Usbi.    .  .    ("Cow," -or  Ox)  2 1 

Uta   .    .  .    ("Poem,"  — or  Song) 1 

Wakana  .  ("  Young  Afc,"  —  probably  the   rape- 
plant  is  referred  to) 1 

Yat  .     .  .    ("Eight-fold") 1 

Yasu.    .  .    ("The  Tranquil") 1 


1  Such  a  name  may  signify  that  the  parents  resolved,  after  the  birth 
of  the  girl,  to  have  no  more  children. 

2  This  extraordinary  name  is  probably  to  be  explained  as  a  refer 
ence  to  date  of  birth.    According  to  the  old  Chinese  astrology,  years, 
months,  days,  and  hours  were  all  named  after  the  Signs  of  the  Zodiac, 
and  were  supposed  to  have  some  mystic  relation  to  those  signs.    I  sur 
mise  that  Miss  Ushi  was  born  at  the  Hour  of  the  Ox,  on  the  Day  of  the 
Ox,  in  the  Month  of  the  Ox  and  the  Year  of  the  Ox  —  "  Usbi  no  Tosbi 
no  Usbi  no  Tsuki  no  Usbi  no  Hi  no  Ushi  no  Koku." 


118  Shadowings 

Yd  .  .  .  ("  The  Positive,"  —  as  opposed  to  Neg 
ative  or  Feminine  in  the  old  Chinese 
philosophy ;  —  therefore,  perhaps, 

Masculine) l 

Yone  .    .    .    ("  Rice,"  —  in  the  old  sense  of  wealth)  .  4 

Yoshi     .    .    ("The  Good") l 

Yoshino  .    .    ("  Good  Field") 1 

Yu     .    .    .    ("The  Valiant") l 

Yuri       .     .    ("Lily")      .         1 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  the  above  list  the 
names  referring  to  Constancy,  Forbearance,  and 
Filial  Piety  have  the  highest  numbers  attached 
to  them. 


II 

A  FEW  of  the  more  important  rules  in  regard  to 
Japanese  female  names  must  now  be  mentioned. 
The  great  majority  of  these  yobina  are  words 
of  two  syllables.  Personal  names  of  respect 
able  women,  belonging  to  the  middle  and  lower 
classes,  are  nearly  always  dissyllables  —  except 
in  cases  where  the  name  is  lengthened  by  certain 
curious  suffixes  which  I  shall  speak  of  further 
on.  Formerly  a  name  of  three  or  more  syllables 
indicated  that  the  bearer  belonged  to  a  superior 
class.  But,  even  among  the  upper  classes  to-day, 
female  names  of  only  two  syllables  are  in  fashion. 


Japanese  Female  Names        119 

Among  the  people  it  is  customary  that  a 
female  name  of  two  syllables  should  be  pre 
ceded  by  the  honorific  "  O,"  and  followed  by  the 
title  "  San,"  —  as  O-Matsu  San,  "  the  Honorable 
Miss  [or  Mrs.]  Pine";  O-Ume  San,  "the  Hon 
orable  Miss  Plum-blossom."1  But  if  the  name 
happen  to  have  three  syllables,  the  honorific 
"O"  is  not  used.  A  woman  named  Kikue 
("  Chrysanthemum  -Branch  ")  is  not  addressed 
as  "  O-Kikue  San,"  but  only  as  "  Kikue  San." 

Before  the  names  of  ladies,  the  honorific  "  O  " 
is  no  longer  used  as  formerly,  —  even  when  the 
name  consists  of  one  syllable  only.  Instead  of 
the  prefix,  an  honorific  suffix  is  appended  to  the 
yobina,  —  the  suffix  ho.  A  peasant  girl  named 
Tomi  would  be  addressed  by  her  equals  as 
O-Tomi  San.  But  a  lady  of  the  same  name 
would  be  addressed  as  Tomiko.  Mrs.  Shimoda, 
head-teacher  of  the  Peeresses'  School,  for  ex 
ample,  has  the  beautiful  name  Uta.  She  would 
be  addressed  by  letter  as  "  Shimoda  Utako,"  and 
would  so  sign  herself  in  replying ;  —  the  f amily- 


1  Under  certain  conditions  of  intimacy,  both  prefix  and 
title  are  dropped.  They  are  dropped  also  by  the  superior 
in  addressing  an  inferior;  —  for  example,  a  lady  would  not 
address  her  maid  as  "  O-Y&ne  San"  but  merely  as  "  Yone" 


120  Shadowings 

name,  by  Japanese  custom,  always  preceding  the 
personal  name,  instead  of  being,  as  with  us, 
placed  after  it. 

This  suffix  ko  is  written  with  the  Chinese 
character  meaning  "child,"  and  must  not  be 
confused  with  the  word  ko,  written  with  a  dif 
ferent  Chinese  character,  and  meaning  "little," 
which  so  often  appears  in  the  names  of  dancing 
girls.  I  should  venture  to  say  that  this  genteel 
suffix  has  the  value  of  a  caressing  diminutive, 
and  that  the  name  Aiko  might  be  fairly  well 
rendered  by  the  "  Amoretta  "  of  Spenser's  Faerie 
Queene.  Be  this  as  it  may,  a  Japanese  lady 
named  Setsu  or  Sada  would  not  be  addressed 
in  these  days  as  O-Setsu  or  O-Sada,  but  as 
Setsuko  or  Sadako.  On  the  other  hand,  if  a 
woman  of  the  people  were  to  sign  herself  as 
Setsuko  or  Sadako,  she  would  certainly  be 
laughed  at,  —  since  the  suffix  would  give  to  her 
appellation  the  meaning  of  "the  Lady  Setsu," 
or  "the  Lady  Sada." 

I  have  said  that  the  honorific  "O"  is  placed 
before  the  yobina  of  women  of  the  middle  and 
lower  classes.  Even  the  wife  of  a  hurumaya 
would  probably  be  referred  to  as  the  "  Honor 
able  Mrs.  Such-a-one."  But  there  are  very 


Japanese  Female  Names       121 

remarkable  exceptions  to  this  general  rule  regard 
ing  the  prefix  "  O."  In  some  country-districts 
the  common  yobina  of  two  syllables  is  made  a 
trisyllable  by  the  addition  of  a  peculiar  suffix; 
and  before  such  trisyllabic  names  the  "O"  is 
never  placed.  For  example,  the  girls  of  Waka- 
yama,  in  the  Province  of  Kii,  usually  have 
added  to  their  yobina  the  suffix  "£,"  l  signifying 
" inlet,"  "bay,"  "frith,"— sometimes  "river." 
Thus  we  find  such  names  as  Namie  ("Wave- 
Bay  "),  Tomie  ("  Riches-Bay  "),  Sumie  ("  Dwell 
ing-Bay  ") ,  SU^ue  ("  Quiet-Bay ") ,  Tamae 
("  Jewel-Bay ").  Again  there  is  a  provincial 
suffix  "  wo,"  meaning  "  field  "  or  "  plain,"  which 
is  attached  to  the  majority  of  female  names  in 
certain  districts.  YosUno  ("Fertile  Field"), 
Umeno  ("  Plumflower  Field  "),  SU^uno  ("  Quiet 
Field  ") ,  Urano  ("  Coast  Field  ") ,  Utano  ("  Song 
Field"),  are  typical  names  of  this  class.  A  girl 
called  Namie  or  Kikuno  is  not  addressed  as 
"  O-Namie  San "  or  "  O-Kikuno  San,"  but  as 
"  Namie  San,"  "  Kikuno  San." 

1  This  suffix  must  not  be  confused  with  the  suffix  "  t" 
signifying  "  branch,"  which  is  also  attached  to  many  pop 
ular  names.  Without  seeing  the  Chinese  character,  you 
cannot  decide  whether  the  name  Tama2,  for  example, 
means  "Jewel-branch"  or  "Jewel  Inlet." 


122  Shado  wings 

"San"  (abbreviation  of  Sama,  a  word  origi 
nally  meaning  "form,"  "appearance"))  when 
placed  after  a  female  name,  corresponds  to  either 
our  "  Miss "  or  "  Mrs."  Placed  after  a  man's 
name  it  has  at  least  the  value  of  our  "  Mr. ",  — 
perhaps  even  more.  The  unabbreviated  form 
Sama  is  placed  after  the  names  of  high  per 
sonages  of  either  sex,  and  after  the  names  of 
divinities :  the  Shinto  Gods  are  styled  the  Kami- 
Sama,  which  might  be  translated  as  "  the  Lords 
Supreme " ;  the  Bodhisattva  Jizo  is  called  Ji^-d 
Sama,  "  the  Lord  Jizo."  A  lady  may  also  be 
styled  "Sama."  A  lady  called  Ayako,  for  in 
stance,  might  very  properly  be  addressed  as 
Ayako  Sama.  But  when  a  lady's  name,  inde 
pendently  of  the  suffix,  consists  of  more  than 
three  syllables,  it  is  customary  to  drop  either 
the  ko  or  the  title.  Thus  "  the  Lady  Ayame  " 
would  not  be  spoken  of  as  "Ayameko  Sama," 
but  more  euphoniously  as  "  Ayame  Sama," l  or 
as  "  Ayameko." 

So  much  having  been  said  as  regards  the 
etiquette  of  prefixes  and  suffixes,  I  shall  now 

1  "Ayame'  Sama,"  however,  is  rather  familiar;  and  this 
form  cannot  be  used  by  a  stranger  in  verbal  address, 
though  a  letter  may  be  directed  with  the  name  so  written. 
As  a  rule,  the  ko  is  the  more  respectful  form. 


Japanese  Female  Names 

attempt  a  classification  of  female  names,  —  be 
ginning  with  popular  yobina.  These  will  be 
found  particularly  interesting,  because  they  re 
flect  something  of  race-feeling  in  the  matter  of 
ethics  and  aesthetics,  and  because  they  serve  to 
illustrate  curious  facts  relating  to  Japanese  cus 
tom.  The  first  place  I  have  given  to  names  of 
purely  moral  meaning,  —  usually  bestowed  in  the 
hope  that  the  children  will  grow  up  worthy  of 
them.  But  the  lists  should  in  no  case  be  re 
garded  as  complete :  they  are  only  representative. 
Furthermore,  I  must  confess  my  inability  to  ex 
plain  the  reason  of  many  names,  which  proved 
as  much  of  riddles  to  Japanese  friends  as  to 
myself. 

NAMES  OF  VIRTUES  AND  PROPRIETIES 

O-Ai "Love." 

O-CW "Intelligence." 

O-Chu "Loyalty." 

O-Jin "Tenderness,"  —  humanity. 

O-Jun "Faithful-to-death." 

O-Kaiyo     ....  "Forgiveness,"  —  pardon. 

O-Ken "Wise," — in  the  sense  of    moral 

discernment. 

O-K5 "Filial  Piety." 

O-Masa     .     .     .     .  "  Righteous,"  —  just. 

O-MicU     ....  "  The  Way,"  —  doctrine. 

Misao "Honor,"— wifely  fidelity. 


124  Shado  wings 

O-Nao  .    .    .  •  .    .    "  The  Upright,"  —  honest. 

O-Ndbu      ....    "  The  Faithful." 

O-Rei "Propriety,"— in  the  old  Chinese 

sense. 

O-Retsu      ....    "  Chaste  and  True." 

O-Ryo "  The  Generous,"  —  magnanimous. 

O-Sada "  The  Chaste." 

O-Sei "Truth." 

O-SUn "Faith,"— in  the  sense  of  fidelity, 

trust. 

O-Sbi^u     ....    "  The  Tranquil,"  — calm-souled. 

O-Setsu      .    .     .     .    "  Fidelity,"  —  wifely  virtue. 

O-Tame  ....  "  For-the-sake-of,"  —  a  name  sug 
gesting  unselfishness. 

O-Tei "  The  Docile,"  —  in  the  meaning  of 

virtuous  obedience. 

O-Toku     ....    "  Virtue." 

O-Tomo  ....  "The  Friend,"  —  especially  in  the 
meaning  of  mate,  companion. 

O-Tsune     ....    "Constancy." 

O-Yasu      ....    "  The  Amiable,"  —  gentle. 

O-YosU     ....    "The  Good." 

O-YosM     ....    "  The  Respectful." 


The  next  list  will  appear  at  first  sight  more 
heterogeneous  than  it  really  is.  It  contains  a 
larger  variety  of  appellations  than  the  previous 
list ;  but  nearly  all  of  the  yobina  refer  to  some 
good  quality  which  the  parents  trust  that  the 
child  will  display,  or  to  some  future  happiness 
which  they  hope  that  she  will  deserve.  To  the 


Japanese  Female  Names        12? 

latter  category  belong  such  names  of  felicitation 
as  Miyo  and  Masayo. 

MISCELLANEOUS  NAMES  EXPRESSING  PERSONAL 
QUALITIES,  OR  PARENTAL  HOPES 

O-Atsu "  The  Generous,"  —  liberal. 

O-Cbika     ....  "  Closely  Dear." 

O-CUka     .    .    .    .  "  Thousand  Rejoicings." 

O-Chd "The  Long,"  —  probably  in  refer 
ence  to  life. 

O-Dai "Great." 

O-Den "  Transmission,"  —  bequest  from 

ancestors,  tradition. 

O-E "Fortunate." 

O-Ei "Prosperity." 

O-En "Charm." 

O-En "Prolongation,"— of  life. 

O-Etsu "Surpassing." 

O-Etsu "  The  Playful,"  —  merry,  joyous. 

O-Fuku      ....  "Good  Luck." 

O-Gen "  Source,"  —  spring,  fountain. 

O-Haya      ....  "  The  Quick,"  —  light,  nimble. 

O-Hide "  Superior." 

Hideyo "  Superior  Generations." 

O-Hiro "The  Broad." 

O-Hisa "  The  Long. "(?) 

Isamu "The  Vigorous,"— spirited,  robust. 

O-Jin "  Superexcellent." 

Kameyo      .    .    .    .  "  Generations-of-the-Tortoise." 

O-Kane1    ....  "  The  Doubly-Accomplished." 

1  From  the  strange  verb  kaneru,  signifying,  to  do  two  things  at  the 
same  time. 


126  Shado  wings 

Kaoru "  The  Fragrant." 

O-Kata      ....  "  Worthy  Person." 

O-Katsu     ....  "  The  Victorious." 

O-Kei "Delight." 

O-Kei "The  Respectful." 

O-Ken "  The  Humble." 

O-Kicbi     ....  "The  Fortunate." 

O-Kimi      ....  "  The  Sovereign,"  —  peerless. 

O-Kiwa     ....  "  The  Distinguished." 

O-Kiyo  1  (  "  The  Clear,"  —  in   the   sense   of 

Kfa&il    '  "1         bright,  beautiful. 

O-Kuru     .    .    .    .  "  She-who-Comes "  ( ?).1 

O-Maru     ....  "  The  Round,"  —  plump. 

O-Masa     ....  "  The  Genteel." 

Masayo      .-  .    .    .  "  Generations-of-the-Just." 

O-Masu     ....  "Increase." 

O-Mtt "Triple  Branch." 

O-Miki "Stem." 

O-Mio "  Triple  Cord." 

O-Mitsu     ....  "Abundance." 

O-Miwa     .    .    .    .  "  The  Far-seeing." 

O-Miwa     ....  "  Three  Spokes  "(?). 2 

O-Miyo      .    .    .    .  "  Beautiful  Generations." 

Miyuki*     ....  "Deep  Snow." 

O-Moto     ....  "Origin." 


1  One  is  reminded  of,  "  O  whistle,  and  I  MI  come  to  you,  my  lad  "  — 
but  no  Japanese  female  name  could  have  the  implied  signification. 
More  probably  the  reference  is  to  household  obedience. 

2  Such  is  the  meaning  of  the  characters.    I  cannot  understand  the 
name.    A  Buddhist  explanation  suggests  itself ;  but  there  are  few,  if 
any,  Buddhist yobina. 

3  This  beautiful  name  refers  to  the  silence  and  calm  following  a 
heavy  snowfall.    But,  even  for  the  Japanese,  it  is  an  aesthetic  name 
also—  suggesting  both  tranquillity  and  beauty. 


Japanese  Female  Names        127 

O-Naka      ....  "Friendship." 

O-Rai "Trust." 

O-Rakul    ....  "Pleasure." 

O-Sacbi     ....  "Bliss." 

O-Sai "  The  Talented." 

Sakae "Prosperity." 

O-Saku      ....  "  The  Blooming." 

O-Sei "  The  Refined,"  —  in  the  sense   of 

"clear." 

O-Sei "Force." 

O-Sen "  Sennin,"  —  wood-fairy. 

O-Sbige     ....  "Exuberant" 

O-Sbime     ....  "The  Total,"  —  summum  bonum. 

O-Sbin "The  Fresh." 

O-Sbin "Truth." 

O-Sbina     ....  "  Goods,"  —  possessions. 

Sbirusbi     ....  "  Proof,"  —  evidence. 

O-Sbifu     .    .    .    .  "  The  Humble." 

O-Sb  5 "Truth." 

O-Sbun      ....  "Excellence." 

O-Suki "  The  Beloved,"  —  Aimee. 

O-Suke "The  Helper." 

O-Sumi      .    .    .    .  "The  Refined,"  — in  the  sense  of 

"  sifted." 

O-Sute "  The  Forsaken,"  —  foundling.2 


1  The  name  seems  curious,  In  view  of  the  common  proverb,  Raku 
wa  ku  no  tane,  —  "  Pleasure  is  the  seed  of  pain." 

2  Not  necessarily  a  real  foundling.    Sometimes  the  name  may  be 
explained  by  a  curious  old  custom.    In  a  certain  family  several  children 
in  succession  die  shortly  after  birth.    It  is  decided,  according  to  tra 
ditional  usage,  that  the  next  child  born  must  be  exposed.    A  girl  is  the 
next  child  born ;  —  she  is  carried  by  a  servant  to  some  lonely  place  in 
the  fields,  or>Isewhere,  and  left  there.    Then  a'peasant,  or  other  person, 
hired  for  the  occasion  (it  is  necessary  that  he  should  be  of  no  kin  to  the 


128  Shadowings 

O-Ta<? "  The  Exquisite." 

O-Taka     ....  "The  Honorable." 

O-Taka      ....  "The  Tall." 

Takara      .    .    .    .  "  Treasure,"  —  precious  object. 

O-Tama     ....  "Jewel" 

Tamait "Jewel-branch." 

Tokiwa l    .    .     .    .  "  Eternally  Constant." 

O-Tomi      ....  "Riches." 

O-Tosbi     ....  "  The  Deft,"  —  skilful. 

O-Tsuma   ....  "The  Wife." 

O-Yori "  The  Trustworthy." 

O-H/aka    ....  "The  Young." 

Place-names,  or  geographical  names,  are 
common ;  but  they  are  particularly  difficult  to 
explain.  A  child  may  be  called  after  a  place 
because  born  there,  or  because  the  parental 
home  was  there,  or  because  of  beliefs  belong 
ing  to  the  old  Chinese  philosophy  regarding 
direction  and  position,  or  because  of  traditional 


family),  promptly  appears,  pretends  to  find  the  babe,  and  carries  it  back 
to  the  parental  home.  "  See  this  pretty  foundling,"  he  says  to  the 
father. of  the  girl,  —  "  will  you  not  take  care  of  it?  "  The  child  Is  re 
ceived,  and  named  "  SuteV'  the  foundling.  By  this  innocent  artifice,  it 
was  formerly  (and  perhaps  in  some  places  is  still)  supposed  that  those 
unseen  influences,  which  had  caused  the  death  of  the  other  children, 
might  be  thwarted. 

1  Lit.,  "  Everlasting-Rock,"  —  but  the  ethical  meaning  is  "  Con- 
stancy-everlasting-as-the-Rocks."  "  Tokiwa  "  is  a  name  famous  both 
in  history  and  tradition ;  for  it  was  the  name  of  the  mother  of  Yoshit- 
sune.  Her  touching  story,  —  and  especially  the  episode  of  her  flight 
through  the  deep  snow  with  her  boys,  —  has  been  a  source  of  inspir 
ation  to  generations  of  artists. 


Japanese  Female  Names       129 

custom,  or  because  of  ideas  connected  with  the 
religion  of  Shinto. 

PLACE-NAMES 

O-Fuji [Mount]  "  Fuji." 

O-Hama    ....  "Coast." 

O-lcbi "Market,"— fair. 

O-lyo "tyo,"— province  of  lyo, in  Shikoku. 

O-Kawa  (rare)    .    .  "  River." 

O-Kisbi     ....  "Beach,"— -shore. 

O-Kita "  North." 

O-Kiwa      ....  "Border." 

O-Kuni      ....  "Province." 

O-Kyo "  Capital,"  —  metropolis,  —  Kyoto. 

O-Macbi    ....  "Town." 

Matsu'6 "  Matsug,"  —  chief  city  of  Izumo. 

O-Mina*    ....  "South." 

O-Mini      ....  "Peak." 

O-Miya      ....  "Temple"  [SW«/J].« 

O-Mon*     ....  "Gate." 

O-Mura     ....  "Village." 

O-Nami*   ....  "Wave." 

Naniwa      ....  "Naniwa,"— ancient  name  of  Osaka. 

O-MsM  ,  "  West." 


1  Abbreviation  of  Minami. 

2  I  must  confess  that  in  classing  this  name  as  a  place-name,  I  am 
only  making  a  guess.    It  seems  to  me  that  the  name  probably  refers  to 
the  ichi  no  miya,  or  chief  Shinto  temple  of  some  province. 

8  I  fancy  that  this  name,  like  that  of  O-Seki,  must  have  originated 
In  the  custom  of  naming  children  after  the  place,  or  neighborhood, 
where  the  family  lived.  But  here  again,  I  am  guessing. 

4  This  classification  also  is  a  guess.    I  could  learn  nothing  about 
the  name,  except  the  curious  fact  that  it  is  said  to  be  unlucky. 
9 


130  Shadowings 

O-Rin "Park." 

O-Saki "Cape." 

O-Sato "  Native  Place,"  —  village,  —  also, 

home. 

O-Sawa      ....  "Marsh." 

O-Seki "Toil-Gate,"— barrier. 

SUgeU "  Thickwood,"  —  forest. 

O-Sbima    ....  "Island." 

O-Sono "Flower-garden." 

O-Taki "Cataract,"  — or  Waterfall 

O-Tani "Valley." 

O-Tsuka    ....  "Milestone." 

O-Yama    ....  "Mountain." 

The  next  list  is  a  curious  medley,  so  far  as  re 
gards  the  quality  of  the  yobina  comprised  in  it. 
Some  are  really  aesthetic  and  pleasing ;  others  in 
dustrial  only ;  while  a  few  might  be  taken  for 
nicknames  of  the  most  disagreeable  kind. 

NAMES  OF  OBJECTS  AND  OF  OCCUPATIONS 
ESPECIALLY  PERTAINING  TO  WOMEN 

\  %    ^  « Damask-pattern." 

> 

O-Fumi      ....  "  Woman's  Letter." 

O-Fusa "Tassel." 

O-Ito    .....  "Thread." 

O-Kama'2  .  .  "Rice-Sickle." 


i,— the  famous  figured  damask  brocade  of  Kyoto,  — is 
probably  referred  to. 

1  O-Kama  (Sickle)  is  a  familiar  peasant-name.    O-Kama  (caldron, 
or  iron  cooking-pot),  and  several  other  ugly  names  in  this  list  are  ser- 


Japanese  Female  Names 

O-Kama    .....   .  "Caldron." 

Ka^asbi     ....  "Hair-pin." 

O-Kinu      ....  "  Cloth-of-Silk." 

O-Koto "Harp." 

O-Nabe «pot,"  —  or  cooking-vessel 

O-Nui "Embroidery." 

O-Sbim6    ....  "  Clasp,"  —  ornamental  fastening. 

O-Some      ....  "The  Dyer." 

O-Taru     ....  "  Cask,"  —  barrel. 

The  following  list  consists  entirely  of  material 
nouns  used  as  names.  There  are  several  yobina 
among  them  of  which  I  cannot  find  the  emblem 
atical  meaning.  Generally  speaking,  the  yobina 
which  signify  precious  substances,  such  as  silver 
and  gold,  are  aesthetic  names;  and  those  which 
signify  common  hard  substances,  such  as  stone, 
rock,  iron,  are  intended  to  suggest  firmness  or 
strength  of  character.  But  the  name  "  Rock  " 
is  also  sometimes  used  as  a  symbol  of  the  wish 
for  long  life,  or  long  continuance  of  the  family 
line.  The  curious  name  Suna  has  nothing,  how 
ever,  to  do  with  individual  "grit":  it  is  half- 
moral  and  half -aesthetic.  Fine  sand  —  especially 
colored  sand — is  much  prized  in  this  fairy-land 


vants'  names.  Servants  in  old  time  not  only  trained  their  children  to 
become  servants,  but  gave  them  particular  names  referring  to  their 
future  labors. 


132  Shadowings 

of  landscape-gardening,  where  it  is  used  to  cover 
spaces  that  must  always  be  kept  spotless  and 
beautiful,  and  never  trodden,  —  except  by  the 
gardener. 

MATERIAL  NOUNS  USED  AS  NAMES 

O-Gin "Silver." 

O-Isbi "Stone." 

O-Iwa "Rock." 

O-Kane      ....  "Bronze." 

O-Katfi    ....  "Air,"  — perhaps  Wind. 

O-Kin "Gold." 

0-Ruri*\      ^    ^    ^  "Emerald,"  — emeraldine? 
Ruriko    > 

O-Rytt "Fine  Metal." 

O-Sato "Sugar." 

O-Seki "Stone." 

O-Sbiwo     ....  "Salt." 

O-Suna "Sand." 

O-Su^u "Tin." 

O-Tane      ....  "Seed." 

O-Tetsu     ....  "Iron." 

The  following  five  yobina  are  aesthetic  names, 
—  although  literally  signifying  things  belonging 
to  intellectual  work.  Four  of  them,  at  least, 


1  I  cannot  find  any  explanation  of  this  curious  name. 

2  The  Japanese  name  does  not  give  the  same  quality  of  aesthetic 
sensation  as  the  name  Esmeralda.    The  ruri  is  not  usually  green,  but 
blue;  and  the  term  "ruri-iro"  (emerald  color)  commonly  signifies  a 
dark  violet. 


Japanese  Female  Names 

refer  to  calligraphy,  —  the  matchless  calligra 
phy  of  the  Far  East, — rather  than  to  anything 
that  we  should  call  "literary  beauty." 

LITERARY  NAMES 

O-Bun "Composition." 

O-Fude "  Writing-Brush." 

O-Fumi      ....  "Letter." 

O-Kaku      ....  "Writing." 

O-Uta "Poem." 

Names  relating  to  number  are  very  common, 
but  also  very  interesting.  They  may  be  loosely 
divided  into  two  sub-classes,  —  names  indicating 
the  order  or  the  time  of  birth,  and  names  of 
felicitation.  Such  yobina  as  IM,  San,  Roku, 
Hachi  usually  refer  to  the  order  of  birth;  but 
sometimes  they  record  the  date  of  birth.  For 
example,  I  know  a  person  called  O-Roku,  who 
received  this  name,  not  because  she  was  the  sixth 
child  born  in  the  family,  but  because  she  entered 
this  world  upon  the  sixth  day  of  the  sixth  month 
of  the  sixth  Meiji.  It  will  be  observed  that  the 
numbers  Two,  Five,  and  Nine  are  not  represented 
in  the  list:  the  mere  idea  of  such  names  as  O-M, 
O-Go,  or  O-Ku  seems  to  a  Japanese  absurd.  I 
do  not  know  exactly  why,  —  unless  it  be  that  they 


134  Shadowings 

suggest  unpleasant  puns.  The  place  of  O-Ni  is 
well  supplied,  however,  by  the  name  O-Tsugi 
("  Next "),  which  will  be  found  in  a  subsequent 
list.  Names  signifying  numbers  ranging  from 
eighty  to  a  thousand,  and  upward,  are  names  of 
felicitation.  They  express  the  wish  that  the 
bearer  may  live  to  a  prodigious  age,  or  that  her 
posterity  may  flourish  through  the  centuries. 


NUMERALS  AND 

WORDS  RELATING  TO  NUMBER 

O-lcU  . 

.    .    .    .    "One." 

O-San   . 

.    .    .    .    "Three." 

O-Mitsu 

.    .    .    .    "Three." 

O-Yotsu 

.    .    .    .    "Four." 

O-Roku 

.    .    .    .    "Six." 

O-SUcU 

.    .    .    .    "Seven." 

O-HacU 

.    .    .    .    "Eight." 

O-Ju      . 

.    .    .    .    "Ten." 

O-Iso     . 

.    .    .    "Fifty."i 

O-Yaso 

,     .     .    "Eighty." 

O-Hyaku 
O-Yao  . 

.    .    .    "Hundred."  2 
.    "  Eight  Hundred." 

O-Sen    . 

.    .    "Thousand." 

O-MicU 

.    "Three  Thousand." 

O-Man  . 

.    .    .    "Ten  Thousand." 

i  Such  a  name  may  record  the  fact  that  the  Rirl  was  a  first-born 
child  and  the  father  fifty  years  old  at  the  time  of  her  birth. 

a  The  "  O  "  before  this  trisyllable  seems  contrary  to  rule ;  but 
Hyaku  is  pronounced  almost  like  a  dissyllable. 


Japanese  Female  Names 

O-Cbiyo     .    .    .    .    "  Thousand  Generations." 
Yacbiyo     ....    "  Eight  Thousand  Generations." 

O-SUge     ....  "Two-fold." 

O-YaH "Eight-fold." 

O-Kayi     ....  "  Great  Number." 

O-Mtna      ....  "All." 

O-Han "  Half."  1 

O-lku "How  Many?"  (?) 

OTHER  NAMES  RELATING  TO  ORDER  OF  BIRTH 

O-Hatsu    ....  "Beginning,"— first-born. 

O-Tsugi    ....  "Next,"— the  second. 

O-Naka     ....  "Midmost." 

O-r ame     ....  "Stop,"  — cease. 

O-Sue "Last." 

Some  few  of  the  next  group  of  names  are  prob 
ably  aesthetic.  But  such  names  are  sometimes 
given  only  in  reference  to  the  time  or  season  of 
birth;  and  the  reason  for  any  particular yobina 
of  this  class  is  difficult  to  decide  without  personal 
inquiry. 

NAMES  RELATING  TO  TIME  AND  SEASON 

O-Haru      ....    "Spring." 
O-Natsu     ....    "Summer." 

1  "  Better  half?  "  —  the  reader  may  query.  But  I  believe  that  this 
name  originated  in  the  old  custom  of  taking  a  single  character  of  the 
father's  name  —  sometimes  also  a  character  of  the  mother's  name  —  to 
compose  the  child's  name  with.  Perhaps  in  this  case  the  name  of  the 
girl's  father  was  HANyemon,  or  HANbei. 


136  Shadowings 

O-AU "Autumn." 

O-Fujnt     ....    "Winter." 

O-Asa "Morning." 

O-Cbo "Dawn." 

O-Yoi "Evening." 

O-Sayo "Night." 

O-Ima "Now." 

O-Toki "Time," — opportunity. 

O-Tosbi     ....    "  Year  [of  Plenty].'' 

Names  of  animals  —  real  or  mythical  —  form 
another  class  of  yobina.  A  name  of  this  kind 
generally  represents  the  hope  that  the  child  will 
develop  some  quality  or  capacity  symbolized  by 
the  creature  after  which  it  has  been  called. 
Names  such  as  "  Dragon,"  "  Tiger,"  "  Bear,"  etc., 
are  intended  in  most  cases  to  represent  moral 
rather  than  other  qualities.  The  moral  symbol 
ism  of  the  Koi  (Carp)  is  too  well-known  to  re 
quire  explanation  here.  The  names  Kame  and 
Tsuru  refer  to  longevity.  Koma,  curious  as  the 
fact  may  seem,  is  a  name  of  endearment. 

NAMES  OF  BIRDS,  FISHES,  ANIMALS,  ETC. 

CUdori "  Sanderling." 

O-Kame     ....    "Tortoise." 
O-Koi "Carp."* 

1  Cyprinus  carpio. 


Japanese  Female  Names       137 

O-Koma     ....  "  Filly,"  —or  pony. 

O-Kuma     ....  "Bear." 

O-RyS "Dragon." 

O-SMka     ....  "Deer." 

O-Tai "Bream."1 

O-Taka      ....  "Hawk." 

OTako      ....  "  Cuttlefish."  (?) 

O-Tatsu    ....  "Dragon." 

O-Tora      ....  "Tiger." 

O-Tori "Bird." 

O-Tsuru    ....  "Stork."  2 

O-WasU  ....  "Eagle." 

Evenyobina  which  are  the  names  of  flowers  or 
fruits,  plants  or  trees,  are  in  most  cases  names  of 
moral  or  felicitous,  rather  than  of  aesthetic  mean 
ing.  The  plumflower  is  an  emblem  of  feminine 
virtue ;  the  chrysanthemum,  of  longevity ;  the  pine, 
both  of  longevity  and  constancy ;  the  bamboo,  of 
fidelity ;  the  cedar,  of  moral  rectitude ;  the  willow, 
of  docility  and  gentleness,  as  well  as  of  physical 
grace.  The  symbolism  of  the  lotos  and  of  the 
cherryflower  are  probably  familiar.  But  such 
names  as  Ham  ("  Blossom  ")  and  Ben  ("  Petal") 

1  Cbrjrsopbris  cardinalis. 

*  Sometimes  this  name  is  shortened  into  O-Tsu.  In  Toky5  at  the 
present  time  it  is  the  custom  to  drop  the  honorific  "  O"  before  such 
abbreviations,  and  to  add  to  the  name  the  suffix  "chan,"  — as  in  the 
case  of  children's  names.  Thus  a  young  woman  may  be  caressingly 
addressed  as  "  Tsu-chan  "  (for  O-Tsuru),  "  Ya-chan  "  (for  O-Yasu), 
etc. 


138  Shadowings 

are  aesthetic  in  the  true  sense ;  and  the  Lily  re 
mains  in  Japan,  as  elsewhere,  an  emblem  of 
feminine  grace. 

FLOWER-NAMES 

Ayame "Iris."1 

A^ami "Thistle-Flower." 

O-Ben "Petal" 

O-Fuji "Wistaria."2 

O-Hana     ....  "Blossom." 

O-Kiku "  Chrysanthemum." 

O-Ran "Orchid." 

O-Ren "Lotos." 

Sakurako   ....  "  Cherryblossom." 

O-Ume "  Plumflower." 

O-Yuri "Lily." 

NAMES  OF  PLANTS,  FRUITS,  AND  TREES 

O-Ine "  Rice-in-the-blade." 

KaUe "Maple-leaf." 

0-Kaya     ....  "  Rush."  « 

O-Kaya     ....  "Yew."4 

O-Kuri "Chestnut." 

O-Kuwa     ....  "Mulberry." 

O-MaU     ....  "Fir."6 

O-Mame    ....  "Bean." 


Ms  setosa,  or  Iris  sibrisia. 
Wistaria  chinensis. 
Imperata  arundinacea. 
Torreya  nucifera. 
Podocarpus  cbinensis. 


Japanese  Female  Names       139 

O-Momo    ....  "Peach,"  — the  fruit.1 

O-Nara      ....  "Oak." 

O-RyU "  Willow." 

SanaV "  Sprouting-Rice." 

O-Sane "  Fruit-seed." 

O-Shino     .    .    .    .  "  Slender  Bamboo." 

O-Suge "Reed."  a 

O-Sugi "Cedar."  « 

O-Take      ....  "Bamboo." 

O-Tsuta    ....  "Ivy."* 

O-Ya2 "Double-Blossom."6 

O-Yone      ....  "  Rice-in-grain." 

Wakana     ....  "  Young  Na"  6 

Names  signifying  light  or  color  seem  to  us  the 
most  esthetic  of  all  yobina  ;  and  they  probably 
seem  so  to  the  Japanese.  Nevertheless  the  rela 
tive  purport  even  of  these  names  cannot  be  di 
vined  at  sight.  Colors  have  moral  and  other 
values  in  the  old  nature-philosophy;  and  an 
appellation  that  to  the  Western  mind  suggests 
only  luminosity  or  beauty  may  actually  refer 


*  Yet  this  name  may  possibly  have  been  written  with  the  wrong 
character.  There  is  another  yobina,  "  Momo  "  signifying  "  hundred," 
—  as  in  the  phrase  momoyo,  "  for  a  hundred  ages." 

2  Scirpus  maritimus. 

8  Cryptomerta  Japonica. 

4  Cissus  Tbunbergii. 

6  A  flower-name  certainly;  but  theX*  here  is  probably  an  abbrevi 
ation  of  yde-^dkura,  the  double-flower  of  a  particular  species  of  cherry- 
tree. 

6  Brassica  cbinensis. 


140  Shadowings 

to  moral  or  social  distinction,  —  to  the  hope  that 
the  girl  so  named  will  become  "  illustrious." 

NAMES  SIGNIFYING  BRIGHTNESS 

O-Mika  ..,.."  New  Moon."  1 

O-Mitsu  ....  "Light." 

O-SMmo  ....  "  Frost." 

O-Teru "  The  Shining." 

O-Tsuki  ....  "Moon." 

O-Tsuya  ....  "  The  Glossy,"  —  lustrous. 

O-Tsuyu  .     .     .     .  "  Dew." 

O-Yuki  .     .     .     .  "  Snow." 

COLOR-NAMES 

O-Ai "  Indigo." 

O-Aka "  Red." 

O-Iro "Color." 

O-Kon "  Deep  Blue." 

O-Kuro      ....  "Dark,"  — lit., "Black." 

Midori*     ....  "Green." 

Murasaki2      .     .     .  "Purple." 

O-SMro  .  "  White." 


1  Mika  is  an  abbreviation  of  Mika^uki,  "  the  moon  of  the  third  night " 
[of  the  old  lunar  month]. 

8  Midori  and  Murasaki,  especially  the  latter,  should  properly  be 
classed  with  aristocratic  yobina  ;  and  both  are  very  rare.  I  could  find 
neither  in  the  collection  of  aristocratic  names  which  was  made  for  me 
from  the  records  of  the  Peeresses'  School ;  but  I  discovered  a  "  Midori " 
in  a  list  of  middle-class  names.  Color-names  being  remarkably  few 
among  yobina,  I  thought  it  better  in  this  instance  to  group  the  whole  of 
them  together,  independently  of  class-distinctions. 


Japanese  Female  Names       141 

The  following  and  final  group  of  female 
names  contains  several  queer  puzzles.  Japan 
ese  girls  are  sometimes  named  after  the  family 
crest ;  and  heraldry  might  explain  one  or  two  of 
these  yobina.  But  why  a  girl  should  be  called  a 
ship,  I  am  not  sure  of  being  able  to  guess.  Per 
haps  some  reader  may  be  reminded  of  Nietzsche's 
"  Little  Brig  called  Angeline  "  :  — 

"  Angeline  —  they  call  me  so  — 
Now  a  ship,  one  time  a  maid, 
(Ah,  and  evermore  a  maid ! ) 
Love  the  steersman,  to  and  fro, 
Turns  the  wheel  so  finely  made." 

But  such  a  fancy  would  not  enter  into  a  Japanese 
mind.  I  find,  however,  in  a  list  of  family  crests, 
two  varieties  of  design  representing  a  ship,  twenty 
representing  an  arrow,  and  two  representing  a 
bow. 

NAMES  DIFFICULT  TO  CLASSIFY  OR  EXPLAIN 

O-Fukul    ....    "Raiment,"  — clothing. 

O-Fune "  Ship, "  —  or  Boat. 

O-Hmaz    ....    "Doll,"  — a  paper  doll? 

1  Possibly  this  name  belongs  to  the  same  class  as  O-Nui  ("  Em 
broidery  "),  O-Some  ("  The  Dyer  ")  ;  but  I  am  not  sure. 

8  Probably  a  name  of  caress.  The  word  Una  is  applied  especially 
to  the  little  paper  dolls  made  by  hand  for  amusement,.—  representing 


142  Shadowings 

O-Kono      ....  "This." 

O-Nao "Still  More." 

O-Nari "Thunder-peal." 

O-Niho "  Palanquin;/'  ( ?). 

O-Rai "Thunder."' 

O-Rui "  Sort,"  — kind,  species. 

O-Sufui    ....  "  Little  Bell." 

Supit "  Branch-of-Little-Bells." 

O-Tada     ....  "  The  Only." 

Tamaki     ....  "  Armlet,"  —  bracelet. 

O-Tamt     ....  "Folk,"  —  common  people. 

O-TosU    ....  "Arrowhead,"  — or  barb. 

O-Tsui "Pair,"  — match. 

O-Tsuna    .    .    .    .  "  Rope,"  —  bond. 

O-Yumi     ....  "  Bow,"  — weapon. 

Before  passing  on  to  the  subject  of  aristocratic 
names,  I  must  mention  an  old  rule  for  Japanese 
names,  —  a  curious  rule  that  might  help  to  ac 
count  for  sundry  puzzles  in  the  preceding  lists. 
This  rule  formerly  applied  to  all  personal  names, 

—  masculine  or  feminine.    It  cannot  be  fully  ex 
plained  in  the  present  paper ;  for  a  satisfactory 

young  ladies  with  elaborate  coiffure ;  and  it  is  also  given  to  the  old- 
fashioned  dolls  representing  courtly  personages  in  full  ceremonial  cos 
tume.  The  true  doll  —  doll-baby —  is  called  ningyQ. 

1  Perhaps  this  name  is  given  because  of  the  sweet  sound  of  the 
su%u,  —  a  tiny  metal  ball,  with  a  little  stone  or  other  hard  object  inside, 
to  make  the  ringing.  —  It  is  a  pretty  Japanese  custom  to  put  one  of  these 
little  su%u  in  the  silk  charm-bag  (mamori-bukero)  which  Is  attached  to  a 
child's  girdle.  The  su%u  rings  with  every  motion  that  the  child  makes, 

—  somewhat  like  one  of  those  tiny  bells  which  we  attach  to  the  neck  of 
a  pet  kitten. 


Japanese  Female  Names       14? 


o  o 


II 


CJB  5, 


144  Shadowings 

explanation  would  occupy  at  least  fifty  pages. 
But,  stated  in  the  briefest  possible  way,  the  rule 
is  that  the  first  or  "  head-character  "  of  a  personal 
name  should  be  made  to  "  accord  "  (in  the  Chi 
nese  philosophic  sense)  with  the  supposed  Sei,  or 
astrologically-determined  nature,  of  the  person  to 
whom  the  name  is  given;  — the  required  accord 
ance  being  decided,  not  by  the  meaning,  but  by 
the  sound  of  the  Chinese  written  character. 
Some  vague  idea  of  the  difficulties  of  the  sub 
ject  may  be  obtained  from  the  accompanying 
table.  (Page  143.) 


Ill 

FOR  examples  of  contemporary  aristocratic 
names  I  consulted  the  reports  of  the  Kwa^ohu- 
Jogakko  (Peeresses*  School),  published  between 
the  nineteenth  and  twenty -seventh  years  of  Meiji 
(1886-1895).  The  Kwazoku-Jogakko  admits 
other  students  besides  daughters  of  the  nobility ; 
but  for  present  purposes  the  names  of  the  latter 
only  —  to  the  number  of  one  hundred  and  forty- 
seven  —  have  been  selected. 

It  will  be  observed  that  names  of  three  or 
more  syllables  are  rare  among  these,  and  also 


Japanese  Female  Names       14? 

that  the  modern  aristocratic  yobina  of  two  syl 
lables,  as  pronounced  and  explained,  differ  little 
from  ordinary  yobina.  But  as  written  in 
Chinese  they  differ  greatly  from  other  female 
names,  being  in  most  cases  represented  by  char 
acters  of  a  complex  and  unfamiliar  kind.  The 
use  of  these  more  elaborate  characters  chiefly 
accounts  for  the  relatively  large  number  of 
homonyms  to  be  found  in  the  following 
list:  — 

PERSONAL  NAMES  OF  LADY  STUDENTS  OF  THE 
KWAZOKU  JOGAKKO 

Aid-to "  Autumn." 

Aid-to "  The  Clear-Minded." 

Aki-to "Dawn." 

Asa-ko "  Fair  Morning." 

Aya-to  ....."  Silk  Damask." 
Cbtharu-ko     .    .     .    "A  Thousand  Springs." 
Chika-ko    ....    "  Near,"—  close. 
Cbitsuru-ko     ..."  A  Thousand  Storks." 
Cliyo-ko    .    ..."  A  Thousand  Generations." 

Ei-to "Bell-Chime." 

Etsu-ko.    .....  .    .    "Delight." 

Fuji-ko "  Wistaria." 

Fuku-ko     .    .    .     .    "  Good-Fortune." 
Fund-to     .    .    .    .    "  A  Woman's  Letter." 
FuyS-to      ....    "Lotos-flower." 
Fuyu-to     ....    "Winter." 
Hana-ko     ....    "Flower." 
10 


146  Shadowings 

Hana-ko     ....    "Fair-Blooming." 

Haru-ko     ....    "  The  Tranquil." 

Haru-ko     ....    "Spring,"  —  the  season  of  flowers. 

Haru-ko  ....  "  The  Far-Removed,"  —  in  the  sense, 
perhaps,  of  superlative. 

Hatsu-ko    ....    "  The  First-born." 

Hide-ko      ....    "Excelling." 

Hide-ko      ....    "Surpassing." 

Hiro-ko "Magnanimous,"— literally, "broad," 

"  large," — in  the  sense  of  benefi 
cence. 

Hiro-ko "Wide-Spreading,"  — with  reference 

to  family  prosperity. 

Hisa-ko "  Long-lasting." 

Hisa-ko "  Continuing." 

HosM-ko    ....    "Star." 

Iku-ko "The  Quick," — in  the  sense  of  living. 

Ima-ko "Now." 

Iho-ko "  Five  Hundred,"  —  probably  a  name 

of  felicitation. 

Ito-ko "Sewing-Thread." 

Kame-ko    ....    "Tortoise." 

Kane-ko     .    .    .    .    "  Going  around "  ( P).1 

Kane-ko  .  .  .  .  "  Bell,"  —  the  character  indicates  a 
large  suspended  bell. 

Kata-ko     ....    "Condition"? 

Kc^u-ko     ....    "First." 

Ka^u-ko     ....    "Number," — a  great  number. 

Ka^u-ko     ....    "  The  Obedient." 

Ktyo-ko      ....    "The  Pure." 

1  It  is  possible  that  this  name  was  made  simply  by  taking  one  char 
acter  of  the  father's  name.  The  girl's  name  otherwise  conveys  no 
intelligible  meaning. 


Japanese  Female  Names        147 

KQ-I  .    .    .    ..."  Filial  Piety." 

Ko-ko "Stork." 

Koto "Harp." 

Kuni-ko      ....  "Province." 

Kuni "  Country,"  —  in  the  largest  sense. 

Kyo-ko "  Capital,"  —  metropolis. 

MacU "  Ten-Thousand  Thousand." 

Makoto "True-Heart." 

Masa-ko     ....  "  The  Trustworthy,"  —  sure. 

Masa-ko     ....  "  The  Upright." 

Masu-ko     ....  "Increase." 

Mata-ko     ....  "Completely,"— wholly. 

Matsu-ko   .    .    .    .  "  Pine-tree." 

MicM-ko    ....  "  Three  Thousand." 

Mine "Peak." 

Mine-ko     ....  "Mountain-Range." 

Mitsu-ko    ....  "  Light,"  —  radiance. 

Miyo-ko     .    .    .    .  "  Beautiful  Generations." 

Moto-ko     ....  "  Origin,"  —  source. 

Naga-ko     ....  "Long,"  —  probably  in  reference  to 

time. 

Naga-ko     ....  "Long  Life." 

Nami-ko     ....  "Wave." 

Nao-ko "Correct,"  — upright. 

Nyo-ko*     ....  "Gem-Treasure." 


1  The  suffix  "  ko  "  \s  sometimes  dropped  for  reasons  of  euphony, 
and  sometimes  for  reasons  of  good  taste  —  difficult  to  explain  to  readers 
unfamiliar  with  the  Japanese  language  —  even  when  the  name  consists 
of  only  one  syllable  or  of  two  syllables. 

2  This  name  is  borrowed  from  the  name  of  the  sacred  gem  Nyoihoju, 
which  figures  both  in  Shinto  and  in  Buddhist  legend.    The  divinity 
Jizo  is  usually  represented  holding  in  one  hand  this  gem,  which  is  said 
to  have  the  power  of  gratifying  any  desire  that  its  owner  can  entertain. 
Perhaps  the  Nyoiboju  may  be  identified  with  the  Gem-Treasure  Veluriya, 


148  Shadowings 

Nobu-ko     ....  "Faithful." 

Nobu-ko     ....  "Abundance,"  — plenty. 

Nobu-ko     ....  "  The  Prolonger." 

Nori-ko "  Precept,"  —  doctrine. 

Nui "  Embroidery,"  —  sewing. 

Oki "  Offing,"  —  perhaps    originally   a 

place-name.1 

Sada-ko      ....  "  The  Chaste." 

Sada-ko      ....  "The  Sure," — trustworthy. 

Sakura-ko  ....  "  Cherry-Blossom." 

Sakat "  The  Prosperous." 

Sato-ko "Home." 

Sato-ko "The  Discriminating." 

Seki-ko "Great." 

Setsu-ko     ....  "  The  Chaste." 

Shige-ko     ....  "Flourishing." 

Shige-ko     ....  "Exuberant,"— in  the  sense  of  rich 

growth. 

SMge-ko     ....  "Upgrowing." 

Shige-ko     ....  "Fragrance." 

Sbiki-ko     ....  "Prudence." 

Shima-ko    ....  "Island." 

Shm-ko      .    .    .     .  "  The  Fresh,"  —  new. 

Shtfu-ko     ....  "  The  Quiet,"  —  calm. 

Sbtpt? "  Quiet  River." 

Sono-ko      ....  "Garden." 

Sue-ko "  Last,"  —  in  the  sense  of  youngest. 

Suke-ko "The  Helper." 


mentioned  in  the  Sfltra  of  The  Great  King  of  Glory,  chapter  1.    (See 
Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  vol.  xi.) 

1  A  naval  officer  named  Oki  told  me  that  his  family  had  originally 
been  settled  in  the  Oki  Islands  ("  Islands  of  the  Offing  ").  This  in 
teresting  coincidence  suggested  to  me  that  the  above yobina  might  have 
had  the  same  origin. 


Japanese  Female  Names        149 


Sumi-ko 

Sumi-ko 

Sumi2-ko 

Su^u-ko 

Su^u-ko 


Taka-ko 
Taka-ko 
Taka-ko 
Take-ko      . 
Taki-ko      . 
Tama-ko     . 
Tama-ko    . 

Tame-ko  . 
Tami-ko 
Tane-ko 

Tatsu-ko  . 

Tatsuru-ko  1 
Tatsuru-ko 
Teru-ko 

Tetsu-ko  . 

Tokt-ko  .  . 

Tome-ko  . 
Tomi-ko 

Tomo    .  . 

Tomo    «  . 

Tomo-ko  . 

TosM-ko  . 
Toyo-ko 

Tsune    .  . 

Tsune-ko  . 


"The  Clear,"  —spotless,  refined. 

"  The  Veritable,"  —  real. 

"  Clear  River." 

"  Tin." 

"  Little  Bell." 

"  Sound  of  Little  Bell." 

"  High,"  —  lofty,  superior. 

"  Filial  Piety." 

"  Precious." 

"  Bamboo." 

"  Waterfall." 

"  Gem,"  —  jewel. 

"Gem,"  — written  with  a  different 

character. 

"  For  the  Sake  of—  " 
"People,"  — folks. 
"  Successful." 
"  Attaining." 
"  Many  Storks." 
"  Ricefield  Stork." 
"  Beaming,"  —  luminous. 
"  Iron." 
"  Time." 
"  Cessation." 
"  Riches." 
"  Intelligence." 
"  Knowledge." 
"  Friendship." 
"  The  Quickly-Perceiving." 
"  Fruitful." 
"  Constancy." 
"  Ordinary,"  —  usual,  common. 


1  So  written,  but  probably  pronounced  as  two  syllables  only. 


150 

Tsune-ko  . 

Tsune-ko  . 

Tsuru-ko  . 

Tsuya-ko  . 

Ume      .  , 

Ume-ko  . 

Yacbi-ko  , 
Yaso-ko 
Yasoshi-ko 
Yasu-ko 
Yasu-ko 
Yasu-ko 

Yone-ko  , 

Yori-ko  . 

Yoshi    .  . 

Yoshi-ko  . 

Yoshi-ko  , 

Yoshi-ko  . 

Yoshi-ko  . 

Yoshi-ko  . 

Yoshi-ko  . 

Yoshi-ko  . 

Yoshi-ko  , 

Yuki-ko  . 

Yuki-ko  , 

Yuku-ko  . 
Yutaka . 


Shadowings 


"  Ordinary,"—  written  with  a  differ 
ent  character. 

"  Faithful,"  —  in  the  sense  of  wifely 
fidelity. 

"  Stork." 

"  The  Lustrous,"  —shining,  glossy. 

"  Female  Hare." 

"  Plum-Blossom." 

"  Eight  Thousand." 

"  Eighty." 

"  Eighty-four." 

"  The  Maintainer,"  —  supporter. 

"  The  Respectful." 

"  The  Tranquil-Minded." 

"  Rice." 

"  The  Trustful." 

"  Eminent,"  — celebrated. 

"  Fragrance." 

"  The  Good,"  —or  Gentle. 

"  The  Lovable." 

"The  Lady-like,"  — gentle  in  the 
sense  of  refined. 

"  The  Joyful." 

"  Congratulation." 

"  The  Happy." 

««  Bright  and  Clear." 

"  The  Lucky." 

"  Snow." 

"  Going." 

"  Plenty,"  —  affluence,  superabun 
dance. 


Japanese  Female  Names 


IV 

IN  the  first  part  of  this  paper  I  suggested  that  the 
custom  of  giving  very  poetical  names  to  geisba 
and  tojoro  might  partly  account  for  the  unpopu 
larity  of  purely  aesthetic  yobina.  And  in  the 
hope  of  correcting  certain  foreign  misapprehen 
sions,  I  shall  now  venture  a  few  remarks  about 
the  names  of  geisba. 

Geisba-mmes,  — like  other  classes  of  names,  — 
although  full  of  curious  interest,  and  often  in 
themselves  really  beautiful,  have  become  hope 
lessly  vulgarized  by  association  with  a  calling  the 
reverse  of  respectable.  Strictly  speaking,  they 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  subject  of  the 
present  study,  —  inasmuch  as  they  are  not  real 
personal  names,  but  professional  appellations  only, 

—  notyobina,  butgeimyo. 

A  large  proportion  of  such  names  can  be  dis 
tinguished  by  certain  prefixes  or  suffixes  attached 
to  them.  They  can  be  known,  for  example,  — 

( 1 )  By  the  prefix  Waka,  signifying  "  Young  " ; 

—  as  in  the  names  Wakagusa,  "  Young  Grass  "  ; 
Waka^uru,  "  Young  Stork  "  ;  Wakamurasaki, 
"  Young  Purple  "  ;  Wakakoma,  "  Young  Filly  ". 


1?2  Shadowings 

(2)  By  the  prefix  Ko,  signifying  "  Little  "  ;  — 
as  in  the  names,  Ko-ent  "  Little  Charm  " ;  Ko- 
hana,    "Little    Flower";    Ko^akura,    "Little 
Cherry- Tree  ". 

(3)  By  the  suffix  Ryo,  signifying  "  Dragon  " 
(the  Ascending  Dragon  being  especially  a  symbol 
of  success) ;  —  as  Tama-Ryo,  "  Jewel-Dragon  " ; 
Hana-Ryo,  "  Flower-Dragon  " ;  Kin-Ryo,  "  Gol- 
den-Dragon  ". 

(4)  By  the  suffix  ji,  signifying  "  to  serve  ", 
"  to   administer " ;  —  as  in  the  names   Uta-ji, 
Shinne-ji,  Katsu-ji. 

(5)  By  the  suffix  suke,  signifying  "  help  "  ;  — 
as  in  the  names  Tama-suke,  Koma-suke. 

(6)  By  the  suffix  kicbi,  signifying  "  luck ", 
"  fortune  "  ;  —  as     Uta-kiclri,    "  Song-Luck  " ; 
Tama-kicUy    "  Jewel-Fortune  ". 

(7)  By  the  suffix  giku  (i.  e.,  hihu\  signifying 
"  chrysanthemum  "  ;  —  as   Mitsu-giku,    "  Three 
Chrysanthemums  " ;  Hina-gihu,  "  Doll -Chrysan 
themum";  Ko-giku,  "  Little  Chrysanthemum". 

(8)  By  the  suffix  tsuru,  signifying  "  stork  " 
(emblem    of    longevity)  ;  —  as    Koma-tsuru, 
"  Filly- Stork  " ;  Ko-tsuru,  "  Little  Stork  " ;  Ito- 

"  Thread-Stork  ". 


Japanese  Female  Names 

These  forms  will  serve  for  illustration ;  but 
there  are  others.  Geimyo  are  written,  as  a  gen 
eral  rule,  with  only  two  Chinese  characters,  and 
are  pronounced  as  three  or  as  four  syllables. 
Geimyo  of  five  syllables  are  occasionally  to  be 
met  with ;  geimyo  of  only  two  syllables  are  rare 
-  at  least  among  names  of  dancing  girls.  And 
these  professional  appellations  have  seldom  any 
moral  meaning:  they  signify  things  relating  to 
longevity,  wealth,  pleasure,  youth,  or  luck,  — 
perhaps  especially  to  luck. 

Of  late  years  it  became  a  fashion  among  cer 
tain  classes  of  geisha  in  the  capital  to  assume  real 
names  with  the  genteel  suffix  Ko,  and  even  aris 
tocratic  yobina.  In  1889  some  of  the  Tokyo 
newspapers  demanded  legislative  measures  to 
check  the  practice.  This  incident  would  seem  to 
afford  proof  of  public  feeling  upon  the  subject. 


Old  Japanese  Songs 


Old  Japanese  Songs 


THIS  New  Year's  morning  I  find  upon  my 
table  two  most  welcome  gifts  from  a 
young  poet  of  my  literary  class.  One 
is  a  roll  of  cloth  for  a  new  kimono,  —  cloth  such 
as  my  Western  reader  never  saw.  The  brown 
warp  is  cotton  thread  ;  but  the  woof  is  soft  white 
paper  string,  irregularly  speckled  with  black. 
When  closely  examined,  the  black  specklings 
prove  to  be  Chinese  and  Japanese  characters  ;  — 
for  the  paper  woof  is  made  out  of  manuscript,  — 
manuscript  of  poems,  —  which  has  been  deftly 
twisted  into  fine  cord,  with  the  written  surface 
outwards.  The  general  effect  of  the  white,  black, 
and  brown  in  the  texture  is  a  warm  mouse  -grey. 
In  many  Izumo  homes  a  similar  kind  of  cloth  is 
manufactured  for  family  use  ;  but  this  piece  was 
woven  especially  for  me  by  the  mother  of  my 
pupil.  It  will  make  a  most  comfortable  winter- 
is? 


Shadowings 

robe;  and  when  wearing  it,  I  shall  be  literally 
clothed  with  poetry,  —  even  as  a  divinity  might 
be  clothed  with  the  sun. 

The  other  gift  is  poetry  also,  but  poetry  in  the 
original  state :  a  wonderful  manuscript  collection 
of  Japanese  songs  gathered  from  unfamiliar 
sources,  and  particularly  interesting  from  the 
fact  that  nearly  all  of  them  are  furnished  with 
refrains.  There  are  hundreds  of  compositions, 
old  and  new,  —  including  several  extraordinary 
ballads,  many  dancing-songs,  and  a  surprising 
variety  of  love-songs.  Neither  in  sentiment  nor 
in  construction  do  any  of  these  resemble  the 
Japanese  poetry  of  which  I  have  already,  in  pre 
vious  books,  offered  specimens  in  translation. 
The  forms  are,  in  most  cases,  curiously  irregular ; 
but  their  irregularity  is  not  without  a  strange 
charm  of  its  own. 

I  am  going  to  offer  examples  of  these  com 
positions,  —  partly  because  of  their  unfamiliar 
emotional  quality,  and  partly  because  I  think  that 
something  can  be  learned  from  their  strange  art 
of  construction.  The  older  songs  —  selected  from 
the  antique  drama  —  seem  to  me  particularly 
worthy  of  notice.  The  thought  or  feeling  and 


Old  Japanese  Songs         1?9 

its  utterance  are  supremely  simple ;  yet  by  primi 
tive  devices  of  reiteration  and  of  pause,  very 
remarkable  results  have  been  obtained.  What 
strikes  me  especially  noteworthy  in  the  following 
specimen  is  the  way  that  the  phrase,  begun  with 
the  third  line  of  the  first  stanza,  and  interrupted 
by  a  kind  of  burthen,  is  repeated  and  finished  in 
the  next  stanza.  Perhaps  the  suspension  will 
recall  to  Western  readers  the  effect  of  some 
English  ballads  with  double  refrains,  or  of  such 
quaint  forms  of  French  song  as  the  famous  — 

Au  jardin  de  mon  p£re  — 
Vole,  mon  coeur,  vole  ! 

II  y  a  un  pommier  doux, 
Tout  doux  / 

But  in  the  Japanese  song  the  reiteration  of  the 
broken  phrase  produces  a  slow  dreamy  effect  as 
unlike  the  effect  of  the  French  composition  as  the 
movements  of  a  Japanese  dance  are  unlike  those 
of  any  Western  round :  — 


160  Shadowings 

KANO  YUKU  WA 

(Probably  from  the  eleventh  century) 

Kano  yuku  wa,    .  . 
Kari  ka  ?  —  kugui  ka  ? 
Kari  naraba,  — 

(Ref.)     Hareya  toto! 
Hareya  toto! 
.•          '   \  *•:''  '  •;'.•  K*!"'  - 
Kari  nara 

Nanori  zo  se'mashi  ;  — 
Nao  kugui  nari-ya  !  — 

Toto! 


That  which  yonder  flies,  — 

Wild  goose  is  it  ?  —  swan  is  it  ? 

Wild  goose  if  it  be,  — 

Hareya  t5t5t 
Hareya  toto! 

Wild  goose  if  it  be, 
Its  name  I  soon  shall  say  : 
Wild  swan  if  it  be,—  better  still  ! 
Tots! 

There  are  many  old  lyrics  in  the  above  form. 
Here  is  another  song,  of  different  construction, 
also  from  the  old  drama  :  there  is  no  refrain,  but 


Old  Japanese  Songs         161 

there  is  the  same  peculiar  suspension  of  phrase ; 
and  the  effect  of  the  quadruple  repetition  is 
emotionally  impressive :  — 

Isora  ga  saki  ni 
Tai  tsuru  ama  mo, 
Tai  tsuru  ama  mo,  — 

Wagimoko  ga  tame  to, 
Tai  tsuru  ama  mo, 
Tai  tsuru  ama  mo ! 

Off  the  Cape  of  Isora, 

Even  the  fisherman  catching  tai,1 

Even  the  fisherman  catching  tai,  — 

[Works]  for  the  sake  of  the  woman  beloved,  — 
Even  the  fisherman  catching  tai, 
Even  the  fisherman  catching  tai! 

But  a  still  more  remarkable  effect  is  obtained  in 
the  following  ancient  song  by  the  extraordinary 
reiteration  of  an  uncompleted  phrase,  and  by  a 
double  suspension.  I  can  imagine  nothing  more 
purely  natural :  indeed  the  realism  of  these  sim 
ple  utterances  has  almost  the  quality  of  pathos :  — 


1  Cbrysophris  cardinal™,  a  kind  of  sea-bream,  —  generally  esteemed 
the  best  of  Japanese  fishes. 
11 


162  Shadowings 

AGEMAKI 
(Old  lyrical  drama  —  date  uncertain) 

Agemaki a  wo 
Waseda  ni  yarite  ya! 
So  omou  to, 
So  omou  to, 
So  omou  to, 
So  omou  to, 
So  omou  to,  — 

So  omou  to, 
Nani-mo  sezushite,  — 
Harubi  sura, 
Harubi  sura, 
Harubi  sura, 
Harubi  sura, 
Harubi  sura ! 

My  darling  boy  !  — 

Oh !  they  have  sent  him  to  the  ricefields ! 
When  I  think  about  him,  — 
When  I  think, 
When  I  think, 


1  It  was  formerly  the  custom  to  shave  the  heads  of  boys,  leaving 
only  a  tuft  or  lock  of  hair  on  either  temple.  Such  a  lock  was  called 
agemaki,  a  word  also  meaning  "  tassel " ;  and  eventually  the  term 
came  to  signify  a  boy  or  lad.  In  these  songs  it  is  used  as  a  term  of 
endearment,  — much  as  an  English  girl  might  speak  of  her  sweetheart 
as  "  my  dear  lad,"  or  "  my  darling  boy." 


Old  Japanese  Songs 

When  I  think, 
When  I  think,  — 

When  I  think  about  him  I 
I  —  doing  nothing  at  all,  — 

Even  on  this  spring-day, 
Even  this  spring-day, 
Even  this  spring-day, 
Even  this  spring-day, 
Even  on  this  spring-day !  — 

Other  forms  of  repetition  and  of  refrain  are 
furnished  in  the  two  following  lyrics :  — 

BINDATARA 

(Supposed  to  have  been  composed  as  early  as  ibe  twelfth 
century) 

Bindatara  wo 
Ayugaseba  koso, 
Ayugaseba  koso, 
Aikyo  zuitare ! 

Yareko  toto, 

Yar&ko  toto! 

With  loosened  hair,  — 
Only  because  of  having  tossed  it, 
Only  because  of  having  shaken  it,— 
Oh,  sweet  she  is  ! 

Yareko  tdto! 
Yareko  totd! 


164  Shadowings 

SAMA  WA  TENNIN 
(Probably  from  the  sixteenth  century) 

Sama  wa  tennin ! 
Sort-sore, 
Tontorori / 

Otome  no  sugata 
Kumo  no  kayoiji 
Chirato  mita ! 

Tontorori  I 

Otome  no  sugata 
Kumo  no  kayoiji 
Chirato  mita ! 

Tontorori  I 

My  beloved  an  angel  is  ! 1 

Sore-sore  ! 

Tontorori ! 
The  maiden's  form, 
In  the  passing  of  clouds, 
In  a  glimpse  I  saw ! 

Tontorori  ! 
The  maiden's  form, 
In  the  passage  of  clouds, 
In  a  glimpse  I  saw  I 

Tontorori  ! 


1  Lit.,  "  a  Tennin  "  ;  —that  is  to  say,  an  inhabitant  of  the  Buddhist 
heaven.    The  Tennin  are  usually  represented  as  beautiful  maidens. 


Old  Japanese  Songs 

My  next  selection  is  from  a  love -song  of  un 
certain  date,  belonging  to  the  Kamakura  period 
(1186-1332).  This  fragment  is  chiefly  remark- 
able  for  its  Buddhist  allusions,  and  for  its  very 
regular  form  of  stanza :  — 

Makoto  yara, 
Kashima  no  minato  ni 
Miroku  no  mifune  ga 
Tsuite  gozarimosu. 

Yono  ! 

Sd  iyoe,  iyoe ! 
Sd  iyoe,  iyoe  I 

Hobashira  wa, 
Kogane  no  hobashira ; 
Ho  niwa  Hokkekyo  no 
Go  no  man-makimono. 

Sd  iyoe,  iyoe  ! 

Sd  iyoe,  iyoe  / 

I  know  not  if 't  is  true 

That  to  the  port  of  Kashima 

The  august  ship  of  Miroku  *  has  come  I 

Yono! 

Sa  iyoZ,  iyo'&  ! 
SaiyoV,  iyo'&l 


1  Miroku  Bosatsu  (Maitreya  Bodhisattva)  is  the  next  great  Buddha 
to  come. 


166  Shadowings 

As  for  the  mast, 

It  is  a  mast  of  gold ;  — 

The  sail  is  the  fifth  august  roll 

OftheHokke*kyo!i 

5 a  iyo'e,  iyo'e ! 
Sa  iyo'e,  iyo'e 


Otherwise  interesting,  with  its  queer  refrain,  is 
another  song  called  "  Agemaki,"  —  belonging  to 
one  of  the  curious  class  of  lyrical  dramas  known 
as  Saibara.  This  may  be  found  fault  with  as 
somewhat  "  free  ";  but  I  cannot  think  it  more 
open  to  objection  than  some  of  our  much-ad 
mired  Elizabethan  songs  which  were  probably 
produced  at  about  the  same  time:  — 

AGEMAKI 

(Probably  from  the  sixteenth  century) 

Agemaki  ya ! 

Tonton  ! 
Hiro  bakari  ya  — 

Tonton  / 


1  Japanese  popular  name  for  the  Chinese  version  of  the  Saddharma 
Pundarika  Sutra.  —  Many  of  the  old  Buddhist  scriptures  were  written 
upon  long  scrolls,  called  makimono,  —  a  name  also  given  to  pictures 
printed  upon  long  rolls  of  silk  or  paper. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         167 

Sakarite  netaredomo, 
Marobi-ainikeri, — 

Tonton  / 
Kayori-ainikeri, 

Tonton  / 

Oh !  my  darling  boy  ! 

Tonton  ! 
Though  a  fathom l  apart, 

Tonton  ! 

Sleeping  separated, 
By  rolling  we  came  together ! 

Tonton  ! 
By  slow  approaches  we  came  together, 

Tonton  ! 

My  next  group  of  selections  consists  of  "  local 
songs  "  —  by  which  term  the  collector  means 
songs  peculiar  to  particular  districts  or  prov 
inces.  They  are  old  —  though  less  old  than 
the  compositions  previously  cited;  —  and  their 
interest  is  chiefly  emotional.  But  several,  it 
will  be  observed,  have  curious  refrains.  Songs 
of  this  sort  are  sung  especially  at  the  village- 
dances —  Bon-odori  and  Hdnen-odori : — 


1  Lit,  "biro."    The  biro  is  a  measure  of  about  five  feet  English,  and 
is  used  to  measure  breadth  as  well  as  depth. 


168  Shadowings 

LOVE-SONG 

(Province  of  Echigo) 

Hana  ka  ?  —  chocho  ka  ? 

Chocho  ka?  — hanaka? 

Don-don  ! 

Kite  wa  chira-chira  mayowaseru, 
Kite  wa  chira-chira  mayowaseru ! 

Taicbokant ! 
Sokane  don-don! 

Flower  is  it  ?  — butterfly  is  it  ? 
Butterfly  or  flower  ? 

Don-don  ! 

When  you  come  thus  flickering,  I  am  deluded  !  — 
When  you  come  thus  twinkling,  I  am  bewitched  ! 

Taichokane! 
SSkane  don-don  ! 

LOVE-SONG 

(Province  of  Kii,  —  village  of  Ogawa) 

Koe  wa  suredomo 
Sugata  wa  mienu  — 
Fuka-no  no  kirigirisu ! 

Though  I  hear  the  voice  [of  the  beloved'},  the  form  I  can 
not  see  —  a  kirigirisu1  in  the  high  grass. 

1  The  kirigirisu  is  a  kind  of  grasshopper  with  a  very  musical  note. 
It  is  very  difficult  to  see  it,  even  when  it  is  singing  close  by,  for  its 
color  is  exactly  the  color  of  the  grass.  The  song  alludes  to  the  happy 
peasant  custom  of  singing  while  at  work  in  the  fields. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         169 

LOVE-SONG 

(Province  of  Mutsu,  —  district  of  Sugaru) 

Washi  no  kokoro  to 
Oki  kuru  fune  wa, 
Raku  ni  misetemo, 
Ku  ga  taenu. 

My  heart  and  a  ship  in  the  offing— either  seems  to 
move  with  ease;  yet  in  both  there  is  trouble  enough. 

LOVE-SONG 

(Province  of  Suwd, —  village  of  heki) 

Namida  koboshite 
Shinku  wo  kataru, 
Kawairashi-sa  ga 

Mashimasuru ! 

As  she  tells  me  all  the  pain  of  her  toil,  shedding  tears,— 
ever  her  sweetness  seems  to  increase. 

LOVE-SONG 

(Province  of  Sttruga,  village  of  Gotemba) 

Hana  ya,  yoku  kike  ! 
Sho  aru  naraba, 
Hito  ga  fusagu  ni 

Naze  hiraku  ? 

0  flower,  hear  me  well  if  thou  hast  a  soul !    When  any 
one  sorrows  as  I  am  sorrowing,  why  dost  thou  bloom  ? 


170  Shadowings 

OLD  TOKYO  SONG 

lya-na  o-kata  no 
Shinsetsu  yori  ka 
Suita  o-kata  no 

Muri  ga  yoi. 

Better  than  the  kindness  of  the  disliked  is  the  violence 
of  the  beloved. 

LOVE-SONG 

(Province  of  Iwami) 

Kawairashi-sa  ya ! 
Hotaru  no  mushi  wa 
Shinobu  nawate  ni 

Hi  wo  tomosu. 

Ah,  the  darling !  .  .  .  Ever  as  I  steal  along  the  ricefield- 
path  [to  meet  my  lover'],  the  firefly  kindles  a  light  to  show 
me  the  way. 

COMIC  SONG 

(Province  of  Shinano) 

Ano  yam  a  kage  de 

Hikaru  wa  nanja  ?  — 
Tsuki  ka,  hoshi  ka,  hotaru  no  mushi  ka  ? 

Tsuki  demo  naiga ; 

Hoshi  demo  naiga ;  — 
Shuto  no  o-uba  no  me  ga  hikaru,  — 

(Chorus)  Mega  bikaru! 


Old  Japanese  Songs         171 

In  the  shadow  of  the  mountain 
What  is  it  that  shines  so? 
Moon  is  it,  or  star?— or  is  it  the  firefly-insect  ? 
Neither  is  it  moon, 
Nor  yet  star ;  — 

It  is  the  old  woman's  Eye ;  —  it  is  the  Eye  of  my 
mother-in-law  that  shines, — 

(Chorus)  It  is  her  Eye  tbat  sbines! 

KAERI-ODORI1 

(Province  of  Sanuki) 

Oh !  the  cruelty,  the  cruelty  of  my  mother-in- 
law! — 

(Chorus)  Oh!  the  cruelty! 

Even  tells  me  to  paint  a  picture  on  running 

water ! 

If  ever  I  paint  a  picture  on  running  water, 
You  will  count  the  stars  in  the  night-sky ! 

Count  the  stars  in  the  night -sky  / 

—  Come  !  let  us  dance  the  Dance  of  the  Honor 
able  Garden  !  — 

Chan-chan  ! 
Cha-cha! 
Yoitomose, 
Yoitomose! 

1  I  am  not  sure  of  the  real  meaning  of  the  name  Kaeri-Odori  (lit 
"  turn-dance  "  or  "  return-dance  ")• 


172  Shadowings 

Who  cuts   the    bamboo    at   the    back  of   the 
house  ?  — 

(Chorus)  Who  cuts  the  bamboo  ?  — 
My    sweet    lord's    own    bamboo,  the    first    he 
planted,  — 

The  first  he  planted  ? 

—  Come  !  let  us  dance  the  Dance  of  the  Honor 

able  Garden  !  — 

Chan-chan  ! 
Cha-cha  ! 
Yoitomose, 
Yoitomose  ! 

Oh!  the  cruelty,  the  cruelty  of  my  mother-in- 
law! — 

Oh  !  the  cruelty  I 
Tells  me  to  cut  and  make  a  hakama1  out  of 

rock! 

If  ever  I  cut  and  sew  a  hakama  of  rock, 
Then  you  will  learn  to  twist  the  fine  sand  into 
thread,  — 

Twist  it  into  thread. 

—  Come  !  let  us  dance  the  Dance  of  the  Honor 

able  Garden!  — 

1  A  divided  skirt  of  a  peculiar  form,  worn  formerly  by  men  chiefly, 
to-day  worn  by  female  students  also. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         17? 

Chan-cban! 
Cha-cha! 
Yoitomose, 
Yoitomose  ! 
Chan-chan-chan ! 


OTERA-ODORI   (TEMPLE-DANCE) 

(Province  of  Iga,  village  called  Uenomacbi) 

Visiting  the  honorable  temple,  when  I  see  the 

august  gate, 
The  august  gate  I  find  to  be  of  silver,  the  panels 

of  gold. 
Noble    indeed    is    the    gate    of   the    honorable 

temple,  — 

The  honorable  temple ! 

Visiting  the  honorable  temple,  when  I  see  the 

garden, 
I  see  young   pinetrees  flourishing  in  the  four 

directions : 
On  the  first  little  branch  of  one  the  shijugara l 

has  made  her  nest,  — 

Has  made  her  nest. 

1  The  Manchurian  great  tit.  It  is  said  to  bring  good  fortune  to  the 
owners  of  the  garden  in  which  it  builds  a  nest,  —  providing  that  the 
nest  be  not  disturbed  and  that  the  brood  be  protected. 


174  Shadowings 

Visiting  the  honorable  temple,  when  I  see  the 

water-tank, 

I  see  little  flowers  of  many  colors  set  all  about  it, 
Each  one  having  a  different  color  of  its  own,  — 

A  different  color. 

Visiting  the  honorable  temple,  when  I  see  the 

parlor-room, 
I  find  many  kinds  of  little  birds  gathered  all 

together, 
Each  one  singing  a  different  song  of  its  own,  — 

A  different  song. 

Visiting  the  honorable  temple,  when  I  see  the 

guest-room, 

There  I  see  the  priest,  with  a  lamp  beside  him, 
Reading  behind  a  f olding -screen  —  oh,  how  ad 
mirable  it  is  !  — 

How  admirable  it  is  ! 

Many  kinds  of  popular  songs  —  and  especially 
the  class  of  songs  sung  at  country-dances  —  are 
composed  after  a  mnemonic  plan.  The  stanzas 
are  usually  ten  in  number ;  and  the  first  syllable 
of  each  should  correspond  in  sound  to  the  first 
syllable  of  the  numeral  placed  before  the  verse. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         17? 

Sometimes  Chinese  numerals  are  used;  some 
times  Japanese.  But  the  rule  is  not  always 
perfectly  observed.  In  the  following  example 
it  will  be  observed  that  the  correspondence  of 
the  first  two  syllables  in  the  first  verse  with  the 
first  two  syllables  of  the  Japanese  word  for  one 
(bitotsu)  is  a  correspondence  of  meaning  only ; 
—  icU  being  the  Chinese  numeral :  — 

SONG  OF  FISHERMEN 
(Province  of  Sbimosa,  —  town  of  Cb5sM) l 

Hitotsutose,  — 
Ichiban  bune  e  tsumi-konde, 
Kawaguchi  oshikomu  6-yago'e*. 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune  ! 

Futatsutose,  — 

Futaba  no  oki  kara  Togawa  made 
Tsuzuite  oshikomu  6-yagoe. 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune! 


1  Choshi,  a  town  of  some  Importance,  Is  situated  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Tonegawa.  It  Is  celebrated  for  its  iwasbi-fishery.  The  iwasbi  is  a 
fish  about  the  size  of  the  sardine,  and  is  sought  chiefly  for  the  sake  of 
its  oil.  Immense  quantities  of  iwasbi  are  taken  off  the  coast.  They 
are  boiled  to  extract  the  oil;  and  the  dried  residue  is  sent  inland  to 
serve  as  manure. 


176  Shadowings 

Mitsutose,  — 

Mina  ichido-ni  maneki  wo  age, 
Kayowase-bune  no  nigiyakasa 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune! 
Yotsutose,  — 

Yoru-hiru  taitemo  taki-amaru, 
San-bai  itcho  no  6-iwashi ! 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune! 
Itsutsutose,  — 

Itsu  kite  mitemo  hoshika-ba  ni 
Akima  sukima  wa  sarani  nai. 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune! 

Mutsutoye,  — 

Mutsu  kara  mutsu  made  kasu-wari  ga 
O-wari  ko-wari  de  te  ni  oware. 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune  ! 

Nanatsutose,  — 
Natakaki  Tonegawa  ichi-men  ni 
Kasu-ya  abura  wo  tsumi-okuru 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune! 

Yatsutose,  — 

Yatebune  no  okiai  wakashu  ga, 
Ban-shuku  soroete  miya-mairi. 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune! 


Old  Japanese  Songs          177 

Kokonotsutose,  — 
Kono  ura  mamoru  kawa-guchi  no 
Myojin  riyaku  wo  arawasuru. 

Kono  tai-ryo-bune  / 

Firstly  (or  "  Number  One  "),  — 

The  first  ship,  filled  up  with  fish,  squeezes  her  way 
through  the  river-mouth,  with  a  great  shouting.1 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  !  2 

Secondly,  — 

From  the  offing  of  Futaba  even  to  the  Togawa,8  the 
ships,  fast  following,  press  in,  with  a  great  shouting. 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  ! 

Thirdly,  — 

When,  all  together,  we  hoist  our  signal-flags,  see  how 
fast  the  cargo-boats  come  hurrying ! 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  ! 

Fourthly,  — 

Night  and  day  though  the  boiling  be,  there  is  still  too 
much  to  boil  —  oh,  the  heaps  of  iwashi  from  the  three 
ships  together ! 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  ! 

1  Q-yagoe.    The  chorus-cry  or  chant  of  sailors,  pulling  all  together, 
is  called yagol. 

2  Tai-ry5  bun'e,  lit. :  — "great-fishing,"  or  "  great-catching-ship." 
The  adjective  refers  to  the  fishing,  not  to  the  ship.    The  real  meaning 
of  the  refrain  is,  "  this-most-successful-in-fishing  of  ships." 

*  Perhaps  the  reference  is  to  a  village  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  To 
gawa,  —  not  far  from  Choshi  on  the  Tonegawa.    The  two  rivers  are 
united  by  a  canal.    But  the  text  leaves  it  uncertain  whether  river  or 
village  is  meant 
12 


178  Shadowings 

Fifthly,— 

Whenever  you  go  to  look  at  the  place  where  the  dried 
fish  are  kept,1  never  do  you  find  any  room,  —  not  even  a 
crevice. 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  ! 

Sixthly, 

From  six  to  six  o'clock  is  cleaning  and  washing :  the 
great  cutting  and  the  small  cutting  are  more  than  can  be 
done. 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  ! 

Seventhly,  — 

All  up  and  down  the  famous  river  Tone'gawa  we  send 
our  loads  of  oil  and  fertilizer. 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing! 

Eighthly,— 

All  the  young  folk,  drawing  the  Yatai-bune?  with  ten 
thousand  rejoicings,  visit  the  shrine  of  the  God. 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing  ! 

Ninthly,  — 

Augustly  protecting  all  this  coast,  the  Deity  of  the  river- 
mouth  shows  to  us  his  divine  favor. 

O  this  ship  of  great  fishing! 


1  Hoshika-ba  :  lit.,  "  the  hoshika-place  "  or  "  hoshika-room."  "  Ho- 
shika  "  is  the  name  given  to  dried  fish  prepared  for  use  as  fertilizer. 

2  Yatai  is  the  name  given  to  the  ornamental  cars  drawn  with  ropes 
in  a  religious  procession.     Yatai-bunl  here  seems  to  mean  either  the 
model  of  a  boat  mounted  upon  such  a  car,  or  a  real  boat  so  displayed 
In  a  religious  processsion.    I  have  seen  real  boats  mounted  upon  festi 
val-cars  in  a  religious  procession  at  Mionoseki. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         179 

A  stranger  example  of  this  mnemonic  arrange 
ment  is  furnished  by  a  children's  song,  composed 
at  least  a  hundred  years  ago.  Little  girls  of 
Yedo  used  to  sing  it  while  playing  ball.  You  can 
see  the  same  ball-game  being  played  by  girls  to 
day,  in  almost  any  quiet  street  of  Tokyo.  The 
ball  is  kept  bounding  in  a  nearly  perpendicular 
line  by  skilful  taps  of  the  hand  delivered  in  time 
to  the  measure  of  a  song;  and  a  good  player 
should  be  able  to  sing  the  song  through  without 
missing  a  stroke.  If  she  misses,  she  must  yield 
the  ball  to  another  player.1  There  are  many 
pretty  "  ball-play  songs ; "  but  this  old-fashioned 
and  long-forgotten  one  is  a  moral  curiosity :  — 

Hitotsu  toy  a  :  — 

Hito  wa  ko  na  hito  to  iu ; 
On  wo  shiraneba  ko  naraji. 

Futatsu  toy  a :  — 

Fuji  yori  takaki  chichi  no  on ; 
Tsune-ni  omoute  wasure-naji. 


1  This  is  the  more  common  form  of  the  game;  but 
there  are  many  other  forms.  Sometimes  two  girls  play 
at  once  with  the  same  ball  —  striking  it  alternately  as  it 
bounds. 


180  Shadowings 

Mitsu  to  ya  :  — 

Mizu-umi  kaette  asashi  to  wa, 
Haha  no  on  zo  ya  omou-beshi. 

Yotsu  to  ya  :  — 

Yoshiya  mazushiku  kurasu  tomo, 
Sugu-naru  michi  wo  maguru-moji. 

Itsutsu  to  ya  :  — 

Itsumo  kokoro  no  kawaranu  wo, 
Makoto  no  hito  to  omou-beshi. 

Mutsu  to  ya:  — 

Munashiku  tsukihi  wo  kurashi-naba, 
Nochi  no  nageki  to  shirinu-beshi. 

Nanatsu  toy  a  :  — 

Nasaki  wa  hito  no  tame  narode, 
Waga  mi  no  tame  to  omou-beshi. 

Yatsu  to  ya :  — 

Yaku-nan  muryo  no  wazawai  mo 
Kokoro  zen  nara  nogaru-beshi. 

Kohonotsu  toy  a  :  — 

Kokoro  kotoba  no  sugu-naraba, 
Kami  ya  Hotoke  mo  mamoru-beshi. 


Old  Japanese  Songs          181 

To  toya:  — 

Totoi  hito  to  naru  naraba, 
Koko  mono  to  iwaru-beshi. 

This  is  the  first :  — 
[Only]  a  person  having  filial  piety  is  [worthy  to  be] 

called  a  person:1 
If  one  does  not  know  the  goodness  of  parents,  one  has 

not  filial  piety. 

The  second :  — 
Higher  than  the  [mountain]  Fuji  is  the  favor  of  a 

father : 
Think  of  it  always ;  —  never  forget  it. 

The  third:  — 
[Compared  with  a  mother's  love]  the  great  lake  is 

shallow  indeed ! 

[By  this  saying]  the  goodness  of  a  mother  should  be 
estimated. 

Th e  fourth  :  — 

Even  though  in  poverty  we  have  to  pass  our  days, 
Let  us  never  turn  aside  from  the  one  straight  path. 

The  fifth  :  — 

The  person  whose  heart  never  changes  with  time, 
A  true  man  or  woman  that  person  must  be  deemed. 


1  Lit.,  "  A  person  having  filial  piety  is  called  a  person."  The  word 
hito  (person),  usually  indicating  either  a  man  or  a  woman,  is  often  used 
in  the  signification  of  "  people  "  or  "  Mankind."  The  full  meaning  of 
the  sentence  is  that  no  unfilial  person  deserves  to  be  called  a  human 
being. 


182  Shadowings 

The  sixth:  — 

If  the  time  [of  the  present]  be  spent  in  vain, 
In  the  time  of  the  future  must  sorrow  be  borne. 

The  seventh :  — 
That  a  kindness  done  is  not  for  the  sake  of  others 

only, 
But  also  for  one's  own  sake,  should  well  be  kept  in 

mind. 

The  eighth :  — 

Even  the  sorrow  of  numberless  misfortunes 
We  shall  easily  escape  if  the  heart  be  pure. 

The  ninth :  — 

If  the  heart  and  the  speech  be  kept  straight  and  true, 
The  Gods  and  the  Buddhas  will  surely  guard  us  well. 

The  tenth :  — 

In  order  to  become  a  person  held  in  honor, 
As  a  filial  person  one  must  [first]  be  known. 

The  reader  may  think  to  himself,  "  How  terri 
bly  exigent  the  training  that  could  require  the 
repetition  of  moral  lessons  even  in  a  '  ball-play 
song ' ! "  True,  —  but  it  produced  perhaps  the 
very  sweetest  type  of  woman  that  this  world  has 
ever  known. 

In  some  dance-songs  the  burthen  is  made  by 
the  mere  repetition  of  the  last  line,  or  of  part 
of  the  last  line,  of  each  stanza.  The  follow- 


Old  Japanese  Songs         18? 

ing  queer  ballad  exemplifies  the  practice,  and  is 
furthermore  remarkable  by  reason  of  the  curious 
onomatopoetic  choruses  introduced  at  certain 
passages  of  the  recitative:  — 

KANE-MAKI-ODORI  UTA 

( " 'Bell-wrapping-dance  song."  —  Province  of  Iga  —  Naga  district) 

A  Yamabushi  of  Kyoto  went  to  Kumano.  There  resting 
in  the  inn  Chojaya,  by  the  beach  of  Shirotaka,  he  saw  a 
little  girl  three  years  old ;  and  he  petted  and  hugged  her, 
playfully  promising  to  make  her  his  wife,  — 

(Chorus)        Playfully  promising. 

Thereafter  that  Yamabushi  travelled  in  various  provinces ; 
returning  only  when  that  girl  was  thirteen  years  old.  "  O 
my  princess,  my  princess ! "  he  cried  to  her,  —  "  my  little 
princess,  pledged  to  me  by  promise !  "  —  "0  Sir  Yama 
bushi,"  made  she  answer, — "  good  Sir  Yamabushi,  take  me 
with  you  now !  — 

"  Take  me  wit b  you  now  !  " 

"O  soon,"  he  said,  "I  shall  come  again;  soon  I  shall 
come  again :  then,  when  I  come  again,  I  shall  take  you  with 
me, — 

"  Take  you  with  me." 

Therewith  the  Yamabushi,  escaping  from  her,  quickly, 
quickly  fled  away ;  —  with  all  haste  he  fled  away.  Having 
passed  through  Tanab£  and  passed  through  Minabe',  he  fled 
on  over  the  Komatsu  moor,  — 

Over  tbe  Komatsu  moor. 


184  Shadowings 

KAKKARA,  KAKKARA,  KAKKARA,  KAKKA!* 

Therewith  the  damsel,  pursuing,  quickly,  quickly  fol 
lowed  after  him ;  —  with  all  speed  she  followed  after  him. 
Having  passed  through  Tanab£  and  passed  through  Minabe, 
she  pursued  him  over  the  Komatsu  moor, — 

Over  the  Komatsu  moor. 

Then  the  Yamabushi,  fleeing,  came  as  he  fled  to  the  river 
of  Amoda,  and  cried  to  the  boatman  of  the  river  of  Amoda, 
—  "  O  good  boatman,  good  sir  boatman,  behind  me  comes 
a  maid  pursuing !  —  pray  do  not  take  her  across,  good 
boatman,  — 

"  Good  sir  boatman  !  " 

DEBOKU,  DEBOKU,  DEBOKU,  DENDEN!2 

Then  the  damsel,  pursuing,  came  to  the  river  of  Amoda 
and  called  to  the  boatman,  "  Bring  hither  the  boat !  —  take 
me  over  in  the  boat !  "  —  "  No,  I  will  not  bring  the  boat ;  I 
will  not  take  you  over :  my  boat  is  forbidden  to  carry 

women !  — 

"  Forbidden  to  carry  women  !  " 

"  If  you  do  not  take  me  over,  I  will  cross !  —  if  you  do 
not  take  me  over,  I  will  cross !  —  there  is  a  way  to  cross 
the  river  of  Amoda !  "  Taking  off  her  sandals  and  holding 
them  aloft,  she  entered  the  water,  and  at  once  turned  into  a 
dragon  with  twelve  horns  fully  grown, — 

With  twelve  horns  fully  grown. 

1  These  syllables,  forming  a   sort  of  special  chorus,  are  simply 
onomatopes ;  intended  to  represent  the  sound  of  sandalled  feet  running 
at  utmost  speed. 

2  These  onomatopes,  chanted  by  all  the  dancers  together  in  chorus, 
with  appropriate  gesture,  represent  the  sound  of  the  ferryman's  single 
oar,  or  scull,  working  upon  its  wooden  peg.    The  syllables  have  no 
meaning  in  themselves. 


Old  Japanese  Songs 

Then  the  Yamabushi,  fleeing,  reached  the  temple  Dojoji, 
and  cried  to  the  priests  of  the  temple  Dojoji :  —  "  0  good 
priests,  behind  me  a  damsel  comes  pursuing !  —  hide  me,  I 
beseech  you,  good  sir  priests  !  — 

"Good  sir  priests!" 

Then  the  priests,  after  holding  consultation,  took  down 
from  its  place  the  big  bell  of  the  temple ;  and  under  it  they 
hid  him,  — 

Under  it  they  hid  him. 

Then  the  dragon-maid,  pursuing,  followed  him  to  the 
temple  Dojoji.  For  a  moment  she  stood  in  the  gate  of  the 
temple:  she  saw  that  bell,  and  viewed  it  with  suspicion. 
She  thought :  —  "  I  must  wrap  myself  about  it  once."  She 
thought:  —  "I  must  wrap  myself  about  it  twice!"  At 
the  third  wrapping,  the  bell  was  melted,  and  began  to  flow 
like  boiling  water, — 

Like  boiling  water. 

So  is  told  the  story  of  the  Wrapping  of  the  Bell.  Many 
damsels  dwell  by  the  seashore  of  Japan ;  —  but  who  among 
them,  like  the  daughter  of  the  Choja,  will  become  a 
dragon  ?  — 

Become  a  dragon  ? 

This  is  all  the  Song  of  the  Wrapping  of  the  Bell !  —this 
is  all  the  Song,  — 

All  the  song!1 

1  This  legend  forms  the  subject  of  several  Japanese  dramas,  both 
ancient  and  modern.  The  original  story  is  that  a  Buddhist  priest,  called 
Anchin,  having  rashly  excited  the  affection  of  a  maiden  named  Kiyohime, 
and  being,  by  reason  of  his  vows,  unable  to  wed  her,  sought  safety 
from  her  advances  in  flight.  Kiyohime,  by  the  violence  of  her  frus 
trated  passion,  therewith  became  transformed  into  a  fiery  dragon  ;  and 
in  that  shape  she  pursued  the  priest  to  the  temple  called  Dojoji,  in 


186  Shadowings 

I  shall  give  only  one  specimen  of  the  true 
street-ballad,  —  the  kind  of  ballad  commonly 
sung  by  wandering  samisen-players.  It  is  written 
in  an  irregular  measure,  varying  from  twelve  to 
sixteen  syllables  in  length ;  the  greater  number 
of  lines  having  thirteen  syllables.  I  do  not  know 
the  date  of  its  composition ;  but  I  am  told  by  aged 
persons  who  remember  hearing  it  sung  when 
they  were  children,  that  it  was  popular  in  the 
period  of  Tenpo  (1830-1843)-  It  is  not  divided 
into  stanzas;  but  there  are  pauses  at  irregular 
intervals,— marked  by  the  refrain,  Yanrei! 

O-KICHI-SEIZA  KUDOKI 

("The  Ditty  of  O-Kicbi  and  Sei^a") 

Now  hear  the  pitiful  story  of  two  that  died  for  love.  — 
In  Kyoto  was  the  thread-shop  of  Yoemon,  a  merchant 

Kumano  (modern  Kishu),  where  he  tried  to  hide  himself  under  the  great 
temple-bell.  But  the  dragon  colled  herself  round  the  bell,  which  at 
once  became  red-hot,  so  that  the  body  of  the  priest  was  totally  con 
sumed. 

In  this  rude  ballad  Kiyohime  figures  only  as  the  daughter  of  an  inn 
keeper,  —  the  Cbbja,  or  rich  man  of  his  village  ;  while  the  priest  Anchin 
is  changed  Into  a  Yamabushi.  The  Yamabushi  are,  or  at  least  were, 
wandering  priests  of  the  strange  sect  called  Shugendo,  —  itinerant 
exorcists  and  diviners,  professing  both  Shinto  and  Buddhism.  Of  late 
years  their  practices  have  been  prohibited  by  law ;  and  a  real  Yama 
bushi  is  now  seldom  to  be  met  with. 

The  temple  Dojoji  is  still  a  famous  place  of  pilgrimage.  It  is  situated 
not  far  from  Gobo,  on  the  western  coast  of  Kishu.  The  incident  of 
Anchin  and  the  dragon  is  said  to  have  occurred  in  the  early  part  of  the 
tenth  century. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         187 

known  far  and  near, — a  man  of  much  wealth.  His  busi 
ness  prospered ;  his  life  was  fortunate.  One  daughter  he 
had,  an  only  child,  by  name  O-Kichi :  at  sixteen  years  she 
was  lovely  as  a  flower.  Also  he  had  a  clerk  in  his  house, 
by  name  Seiza,  just  in  the  prime  of  youth,  aged  twenty- 
and-two. 

Yanrei ! 

Now  the  young  man  Seiza  was  handsome ;  and  O-Kichi 
fell  in  love  with  him  at  sight.  And  the  two  were  so  often 
together  that  their  secret  affection  became  known ;  and  the 
matter  came  to  the  ears  of  the  parents  of  O-Kichi ;  and 
the  parents,  hearing  of  it,  felt  that  such  a  thing  could  not 
be  suffered  to  continue. 

Yanrei  I 

So  at  last,  the  mother,  having  called  O-Kichi  into  a  private 
room,  thus  spoke  to  her :  —  "  O  my  daughter,  I  hear  that 
you  have  formed  a  secret  relation  with  the  young  man 
Seiza,  of  our  shop.  Are  you  willing  to  end  that  relation  at 
once,  and  not  to  think  any  more  about  that  man,  O-Kichi  ? 
—  answer  me,  O  my  daughter." 

Yanrei! 

"0  my  dear  mother,"  answered  O-Kichi,  "what  is  this 
that  you  ask  me  to  do  ?  The  closeness  of  the  relation  be 
tween  Seiza  and  me  is  the  closeness  of  the  relation  of  the 
ink  to  the  paper  that  it  penetrates.1  Therefore,  whatever 
may  happen,  O  mother  of  mine,  to  separate  from  Seiza  is 
more  than  I  can  bear." 

Yanrei! 


1  Lit. :  —  "  that  affinity  as-for,  ink-and-paper-soaked-like  affinity.' 


188  Shadowings 

Then,  the  father,  having  called  Seiza  to  the  innermost 
private  room,  thus  spoke  to  him: — "I  called  you  here 
only  to  tell  you  this:  You  have  turned  the  mind  of  our 
daughter  away  from  what  is  right ;  and  even  to  hear  of 
such  a  matter  is  not  to  be  borne.  Pack  up  your  things  at 
once,  and  go  !  —  to-day  is  the  utmost  limit  of  the  time  that 
you  remain  in  this  house." 

Yanrei ! 

Now  Seiza  was  a  native  of  Osaka.  Without  saying 
more  than  "  Yes  —  yes,"  he  obeyed  and  went  away,  return 
ing  to  his  home.  There  he  remained  four  or  five  days, 
thinking  only  of  O-Kichi.  And  because  of  his  longing  for 
her,  he  fell  sick ;  and  as  there  was  no  cure  and  no  hope  for 
him,  he  died. 

Yanrei ! 

Then  one  night  O-Kichi,  in  a  moment  of  sleep,  saw  the 
face  of  Seiza  close  to  her  pillow,  —  so  plainly  that  she  could 
not  tell  whether  it  was  real,  or  only  a  dream.  And  rising 
up,  she  looked  about ;  but  the  form  of  Seiza  had  vanished. 

Yanrei  I 

Because  of  this  she  made  up  her  mind  to  go  at  once  to 
the  house  of  Seiza.  And,  without  being  seen  by  any  one, 
she  fled  from  the  home  of  her  parents. 

Yanrei ! 

When  she  came  to  the  ferry  at  the  next  village,  she  did 
not  take  the  boat,  but  went  round  by  another  road ;  and 
making  all  haste  she  found  her  way  to  the  city  of  Osaka. 
There  she  asked  for  the  house  of  Seiza ;  and  she  learned 
that  it  was  in  a  certain  street,  the  third  house  from  a 
certain  bridge. 

Yanrei  ! 


Old  Japanese  Songs         189 

Arriving  at  last  before  the  home  of  Seiza,  she  took  off 
her  travelling  hat  of  straw ;  and  seating  herself  on  the 
threshold  of  the  entrance,  she  cried  out:— "Pardon  me 
kindly  !  — is  not  this  the  house  of  Master  Seiza?" 

Yanrei  I 

Then  —  0  the  pity  of  it !  —  she  saw  the  mother  of  Seiza, 
weeping  bitterly,  and  holding  in  her  hand  a  Buddhist  ros 
ary.  "O  my  good  young  lady,"  the  mother  of  Seiza 
asked,  "  whence  have  you  come ;  and  whom  do  you  want 
to  see?" 

Yanrei! 

And  0-Kichi  said :  —  "  I  am  the  daughter  of  the  thread- 
merchant  of  Kyoto.  And  I  have  come  all  the  way  here  only 
because  of  the  relation  that  has  long  existed  between  Mas 
ter  Seiza  and  myself.  Therefore,  I  pray  you,  kindly  permit 
me  to  see  him." 

Yanrei! 

"  Alas  ! "  made  answer  the  mother,  weeping,  "  Seiza, 
whom  you  have  come  so  far  to  see,  is  dead.  To-day  is 
the  seventh  day  from  the  day  on  which  he  died."  .  . .  Hear 
ing  these  words,  0-Kichi  herself  could  only  shed  tears. 

Yanrei! 

But  after  a  little  while  she  took  her  way  to  the  cemetery. 
And  there  she  found  the  sotoba l  erected  above  the  grave 
of  Seiza;  and  leaning  upon  it,  she  wept  aloud. 

Yanrei! 

1  A  wooden  lath,  bearing  Buddhist  texts,rplanted  above  graves.  For 
a  full  account  of  the  sotoba  see  my  Exotics  and  Retrospectives  :  "  The 
Literature  of  the  Dead." 


190  Shadowings 

Then  —  how  fearful  a  thing  is  the  longing  of  a  person l 
— the  grave  of  Seiza  split  asunder;  and  the  form  of  Seiza 
rose  up  therefrom  and  spoke. 

Yanrei ! 

"  Ah !  is  not  this  0-Kichi  that  has  come  ?  Kind  indeed 
it  was  to  have  come  to  me  from  so  far  away !  My  0-Kichi, 
do  not  weep  thus.  Never  again  —  even  though  you  weep 
—  can  we  be  united  in  this  world.  But  as  you  love  me 
truly,  I  pray  you  to  set  some  fragrant  flowers  before  my 
tomb,  and  to  have  a  Buddhist  service  said  for  me  upon  the 
anniversary  of  my  death." 

Yanrei! 

And  with  these  words  the  form  of  Seiza  vanished.  "  0 
wait,  wait  for  me !  "  cried  O-Kichi,  —  "  wait  one  little  mo 
ment  !  2  I  cannot  let  you  return  alone !  —  I  shall  go  with 
you  in  a  little  time !  " 

Yanrei ! 

1  In  the  original: — Hito  no  omoi  tua  osoroshi  mono  yol — ("how 
fearful  a  thing  is  the  thinking  of  a  person  !  ").  The  word  omoi,  used 
here  in  the  sense  of  "  longing,"  refers  to  the  weird  power  of  Seiza's 
dying  wish  to  see  his  sweetheart.  Even  after  his  burial,  this  longing 
has  the  strength  to  burst  open  the  tomb. 

—  In  the  old  English  ballad  of  "  William  and  Marjorie  "  (see  Child  : 
vol.  ii.  p.  151)  there  Is  also  a  remarkable  fancy  about  the  opening  and 
closing  of  a  grave  :  — 

She  followed  him  high,  she  followed  him  low, 

Till  she  came  to  yon  churchyard  green ; 
And  there  the  deep  grave  opened  up, 
And  young  William  he  lay  down. 

8  With  this  episode  compare  the  close  of  the  English  ballad  "  Sweet 
William's  Ghost "  (Child  :  vol.  ii.,  page  148)  :  — 
"O  stay,  my  only  true  love,  stay  !." 

The  constant  Margaret  cried  : 
Wan  grew  her  cheeks ;  she  closed  her  een, 
Stretched  her  soft  limbs,  and  died. 


Old  Japanese  Songs         191 

Then  quickly  she  went  beyond  the  temple-gate  to  a  moat 
some  four  or  five  cho l  distant ;  and  having  filled  her  sleeves 
with  small  stones,  into  the  deep  water  she  cast  her  forlorn 
body. 

Yanrei ! 

And  now  I  shall  terminate  this  brief  excursion 
into  unfamiliar  song-fields  by  the  citation  of  two 
Buddhist  pieces.  The  first  is  from  the  famous 
work  Gempei  Seisuiki  ("  Account  of  the  Pros 
perity  and  Decline  of  the  Houses  of  Gen  and 
Hei  ") ,  probably  composed  during  the  latter  part 
of  the  twelfth,  or  at  the  beginning  of  the  thir 
teenth  century.  It  is  written  in  the  measure 
called  Imayo,  —  that  is  to  say,  in  short  lines  alter 
nately  of  seven  and  of  five  syllables  (7,  5 ;  7,  5 ; 
7,  5,  ad  libitum) .  The  other  philosophical  com 
position  is  from  a  collection  of  songs  called 
RyutaM-busbi  ("  Ryutachi  Airs"),  belonging 
to  the  sixteenth  century:  — 

I 

(Measure,  Imayti) 

Sama  mo  kokoro  mo 
Kawaru  kana ! 
Otsuru  namida  wa 

J  A  cho  is  about  one  fifteenth  of  a  mile. 


192  Shadowings 

Taki  no  mizu : 
Myo-ho-renge  no 
Ike  to  nari ; 
Guze  no  f  une  ni 
Sao  sashite ; 
Shizumu  waga  mi  wo 
Nose-tamae ! 

Both  form  and  mind  — 

Lo  !  how  these  change  ! 

The  falling  of  tears 

Is  like  the  water  of  a  cataract. 

Let  them  become  the  Pool 

Of  the  Lotos  of  the  Good  Law  ! 

Poling  thereupon 

The  Boat  of  Salvation, 

Vouchsafe  that  my  sinking 

Body  may  ride ! 

II 

(Period  of  Bunroku—l$92-l$96) 

Who  twice  shall  live  his  youth  ? 

What  flower  faded  blooms  again  ? 

Fugitive  as  dew 

Is  the  form  regretted, 

Seen  only 

In  a  moment  of  dream. 


FANTASIES 


.  .  .  Vainly  does  each,  as  he  glides, 
Fable  and  dream 

Of  the  lands  which  the  River  of  Time 
Had  left  ere  he  woke  on  its  breast, 
Or  shall  reach  when  his  eyes  have 
been  closed. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD 


13 


Noctilucae 


Noctilucae 


THE  moon  had  not  yet  risen  ;  but  the  vast  of 
the  night  was  all  seething  with  stars,  and 
bridged  by  a  Milky  Way  of  extraordinary 
brightness.  There  was  no  wind;  but  the  sea, 
far  as  sight  could  reach,  was  running  in  ripples 
of  fire,  —  a  vision  of  infernal  beauty.  Only  the 
ripplings  were  radiant  (between  them  was  black 
ness  absolute)  ;  —  and  the  luminosity  was  amaz 
ing.  Most  of  the  undulations  were  yellow  like 
candle-flame;  but  there  were  crimson  lampings 
also,  —  and  azure,  and  orange,  and  emerald. 
And  the  sinuous  flickering  of  all  seemed,  not  a 
pulsing  of  many  waters,  but  a  laboring  of  many 
wills,  —  a  fleeting  conscious  and  monstrous,  — 
a  writhing  and  a  swarming  incalculable,  as  of 
dragon-life  in  some  depth  of  Erebus. 

And  life  indeed  was  making  the  sinister  splen 
dor   of   that  spectacle  —  but    life   infinitesimal, 
197 


198  Shadowings 

and  of  ghostliest  delicacy,  —  life  illimitable,  yet 
ephemeral,  flaming  and  fading  in  ceaseless  alter- 
nation  over  the  whole  round  of  waters  even  to 
the  sky-line,  above  which,  in  the  vaster  abyss, 
other  countless  lights  were  throbbing  with  other 
spectral  colors. 

Watching,  I  wondered  and  I  dreamed.  I 
thought  of  the  Ultimate  Ghost  revealed  in  that 
scintillation  tremendous  of  Night  and  Sea;  — 
quickening  above  me,  in  systems  aglow  with 
awful  fusion  of  the  past  dissolved,  with  vapor 
of  the  life  again  to  be; — quickening  also  be 
neath  me,  in  meteor-gushings  and  constellations 
and  nebulosities  of  colder  fire,  —  till  I  found  my 
self  doubting  whether  the  million  ages  of  the  sun- 
star  could  really  signify,  in  the  flux  of  perpetual 
dissolution,  anything  more  than  the  momentary 
sparkle  of  one  expiring  noctiluca. 

Even  with  the  doubt,  the  vision  changed.  I 
saw  no  longer  the  sea  of  the  ancient  East,  with 
its  shudderings  of  fire,  but  that  Flood  whose 
width  and  depth  and  altitude  are  one  with  the 
Night  of  Eternity,  —  the  shoreless  and  timeless 
Sea  of  Death  and  Birth.  And  the  luminous 
haze  of  a  hundred  millions  of  suns,  —  the  Arch 


Noctilucae  199 

of  the  Milky  Way,  —  was  a  single  smouldering 
surge  in  the  flow  of  the  Infinite  Tides. 

Yet  again  there  came  a  change.  I  saw  no 
more  that  vapory  surge  of  suns;  but  the  living 
darkness  streamed  and  thrilled  about  me  with 
infinite  sparkling;  and  every  sparkle  was  beat 
ing  like  a  heart,  —  beating  out  colors  like  the 
tints  of  the  sea-fires.  And  the  lampings  of  all 
continually  flowed  away,  as  shivering  threads 
of  radiance,  into  illimitable  Mystery.  .  .  . 

Then  I  knew  myself  also  a  phosphor-point,  — 
one  fugitive  floating  sparkle  of  the  measure 
less  current;  —  and  I  saw  that  the  light  which 
was  mine  shifted  tint  with  each  changing  of 
thought.  Ruby  it  sometimes  shone,  and  some 
times  sapphire:  now  it  was  flame  of  topaz; 
again,  it  was  fire  of  emerald.  And  the  mean 
ing  of  the  changes  I  could  not  fully  know.  But 
thoughts  of  the  earthly  life  seemed  to  make  the 
light  burn  red ;  while  thoughts  of  supernal  being, 
—  of  ghostly  beauty  and  of  ghostly  bliss, — 
seemed  to  kindle  ineffable  rhythms  of  azure  and 
of  violet. 

But  of  white  lights  there  were  none  in  all  the 
Visible.  And  I  marvelled. 


200  Shadowings 

Then  a  Voice  said  to  me :  — 

"The  White  are  of  the  Altitudes.  By  the 
blending  of  the  billions  they  are  made.  Thy 
part  is  to  help  to  their  kindling.  Even  as  the 
color  of  thy  burning,  so  is  the  worth  of  thee. 
For  a  moment  only  is  thy  quickening ;  yet  the 
light  of  thy  pulsing  lives  on:  by  thy  thought, 
in  that  shining  moment,  thou  becomest  a  Maker 
of  Gods." 


A  Mystery  of  Crowds 
9 


A  Mystery  of  Crowds 


WHO  has  not  at  some  time  leaned  over 
the  parapet  of  a  bridge  to  watch  the 
wrinklings  and  dimplings  of  the  cur 
rent  below,  —  to  wonder  at  the  trembling  per 
manency  of  surf  ace -shapes  that  never  change, 
though  the  substance  of  them  is  never  for  two 
successive  moments  the  same  ?  The  mystery  of 
the  spectacle  fascinates ;  and  it  is  worth  thinking 
about.  Symbols  of  the  riddle  of  our  own  being 
are  those  shuddering  forms.  In  ourselves  like 
wise  the  substance  perpetually  changes  with  the 
flow  of  the  Infinite  Stream;  but  the  shapes, 
though  ever  agitated  by  various  inter-opposing 
forces,  remain  throughout  the  years. 

And  who  has  not  been  fascinated  also  by  the 

sight  of  the  human  stream  that  pours  and  pulses 

through  the  streets  of  some  great  metropolis? 

This,  too,  has  its  currents  and  counter-currents 

203 


204  Shadowings 

and  eddyings, —  all  strengthening  or  weakening 
according  to  the  tide-rise  or  tide-ebb  of  the  city's 
sea  of  toil.  But  the  attraction  of  the  greater 
spectacle  for  us  is  not  really  the  mystery  of 
motion:  it  is  rather  the  mystery  of  man.  As 
outside  observers  we  are  interested  chiefly  by 
the  passing  forms  and  faces,  —  by  their  intima 
tions  of  personality,  their  suggestions  of  sym 
pathy  or  repulsion.  We  soon  cease  to  think 
about  the  general  flow.  For  the  atoms  of  the 
human  current  are  visible  to  our  gaze:  we  see 
them  walk,  and  deem  their  movements  suffi 
ciently  explained  by  our  own  experience  of 
walking.  And,  nevertheless,  the  motions  of  the 
visible  individual  are  more  mysterious  than  those 
of  the  always  invisible  molecule  of  water.  —  I 
am  not  forgetting  the  truth  that  all  forms  of 
motion  are  ultimately  incomprehensible:  I  am 
referring  only  to  the  fact  that  our  common  rela 
tive  knowledge  of  motions,  which  are  supposed 
to  depend  upon  will,  is  even  less  than  our  pos 
sible  relative  knowledge  of  the  behavior  of  the 
atoms  of  a  water-current. 

Every  one  who  has  lived  in  a  great  city  is 
aware  of  certain  laws  of  movement  which  regu- 


A  Mystery  of  Crowds         20? 

late  the  flow  of  population  through  the  more 
crowded  thoroughfares.  (We  need  not  for  pres 
ent  purposes  concern  ourselves  about  the  com 
plex  middle-currents  of  the  living  river,  with 
their  thunder  of  hoofs  and  wheels :  I  shall  speak 
of  the  side-currents  only.)  On  either  footpath 
the  crowd  naturally  divides  itself  into  an  upward 
and  a  downward  stream.  All  persons  going  in 
one  direction  take  the  right-hand  side ;  all  going 
in  the  other  direction  take  the  left-hand  side. 
By  moving  with  either  one  of  these  two  streams 
you  can  proceed  even  quickly;  but  you  cannot 
walk  against  it :  only  a  drunken  or  insane  per 
son  is  likely  to  attempt  such  a  thing.  Between 
the  two  currents  there  is  going  on,  by  reason 
of  the  pressure,  a  continual  self-displacement 
of  individuals  to  left  and  right,  alternately, — 
such  a  yielding  and  swerving  as  might  be  repre 
sented,  in  a  drawing  of  the  double-current,  by 
zigzag  medial  lines  ascending  and  descending. 
This  constant  yielding  alone  makes  progress 
possible:  without  it  the  contrary  streams  would 
quickly  bring  each  other  to  a  standstill  by  lateral 
pressure.  But  it  is  especially  where  two  crowd - 
streams  intersect  each  other,  as  at  street-angles, 
that  this  systematic  self-displacement  is  worthy 


206  Shadowings 

of  study.  Everybody  observes  the  phenome 
non;  but  few  persons  think  about  it.  Who 
ever  really  thinks  about  it  will  discover  that 
there  is  a  mystery  in  it,  —  a  mystery  which  no 
individual  experience  can  fully  explain. 

In  any  thronged  street  of  a  great  metropolis 
thousands  of  people  are  constantly  turning  aside 
to  left  or  right  in  order  to  pass  each  other. 
Whenever  two  persons  walking  in  contrary  direc 
tions  come  face  to  face  in  such  a  press,  one  of 
three  things  is  likely  to  happen :  —  Either  there 
is  a  mutual  yielding,  —  or  one  makes  room  for 
the  other,  —  or  else  both,  in  their  endeavor  to 
be  accommodating,  step  at  once  in  the  same 
direction,  and  as  quickly  repeat  the  blunder  by 
trying  to  correct  it,  and  so  keep  dancing  to  and 
fro  in  each  other's  way,  —  until  the  first  to  per 
ceive  the  absurdity  of  the  situation  stands  still, 
or  until  the  more  irritable  actually  pushes  his 
-vis-a-vis  to  one  side.  But  these  blunders  are 
relatively  infrequent:  all  necessary  yielding,  as 
a  rule,  is  done  quickly  and  correctly. 

Of  course  there  must  be  some  general  law 
regulating  all  this  self -displacement,  —  some  law 
in  accord  with  the  universal  law  of  motion  in 


A  Mystery  of  Crowds         207 

the  direction  of  least  resistance.  You  have  only 
to  watch  any  crowded  street  for  half  an  hour  to 
be  convinced  of  this.  But  the  law  is  not  easily 
found  or  formulated :  there  are  puzzles  in  the 
phenomenon. 

If  you  study  the  crowd-movement  closely,  you 
will  perceive  that^  those  encounters  in  which  one 
person  yields  to  make  way  for  the  other  are 
much  less  common  than  those  in  which  both 
parties  give  way.  But  a  little  reflection  will  con 
vince  you  that,  even  in  cases  of  mutual  yielding, 
one  person  must  of  necessity  yield  sooner  than 
the  other,  —  though  the  difference  in  time  of 
the  impulse-manifestation  should  be  —  as  it  often 
is  —  altogether  inappreciable.  For  the  sum  of 
character,  physical  and  -psychical,  cannot  be  pre 
cisely  the  same  in  two  human  beings.  No  two 
persons  can  have  exactly  equal  faculties  of  per 
ception  and  will,  nor  exactly  similar  qualities  of 
that  experience  which  expresses  itself  in  mental 
and  physical  activities.  And  therefore  in  every 
case  of  apparent  mutual  yielding,  the  yielding 
must  really  be  successive,  not  simultaneous. 
Now  although  what  we  might  here  call  the 
"  personal  equation  "  proves  that  in  every  case  of 


208  Shadowings 

mutual  yielding  one  individual  necessarily  yields 
sooner  than  the  other,  it  does  not  at  all  explain 
the  mystery  of  the  individual  impulse  in  cases 
where  the  yielding  is  not  mutual ;  —  it  does  not 
explain  why  you  feel  at  one  time  that  you  are 
about  to  make  your  vis-d-vis  give  place,  and 
feel  at  another  time  that  you  must  yourself  give 
place.  What  originates  the  feeling  ? 

A  friend  once  attempted  to  answer  this  ques 
tion  by  the  ingenious  theory  of  a  sort  of  eye- 
duel  between  every  two  persons  coming  face  to 
face  in  a  street-throng;  but  I  feel  sure  that  his 
theory  could  account  for  the  psychological  facts 
in  scarcely  half-a-dozen  of  a  thousand  such  en 
counters.  The  greater  number  of  people  hurry 
ing  by  each  other  in  a  dense  press  rarely  observe 
faces:  only  the  disinterested  idler  has  time  for 
that.  Hundreds  actually  pass  along  the  street 
with  their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  pavement.  Cer 
tainly  it  is  not  the  man  in  a  hurry  who  can 
guide  himself  by  ocular  snap-shot  views  of 
physiognomy; — he  is  usually  absorbed  in  his 
own  thoughts.  ...  I  have  studied  my  own  case 
repeatedly.  While  in  a  crowd  I  seldom  look  at 
faces;  but  without  any  conscious  observation  I 
am  always  able  to  tell  when  I  should  give  way, 


A  Mystery  of  Crowds         209 

or  when  my  vis-a-vis  is  going  to  save  me  that 
trouble.  My  knowledge  is  certainly  intuitive  — 
a  mere  knowledge  of  feeling;  and  I  know  not 
with  what  to  compare  it  except  that  blind  faculty 
by  which,  in  absolute  darkness,  one  becomes 
aware  of  the  proximity  of  bulky  objects  with 
out  touching  them.  And  my  intuition  is  almost 
infallible.  If  I  hesitate  to  obey  it,  a  collision  is 
the  invariable  consequence. 

Furthermore,  I  find  that  whenever  automatic, 
or  at  least  semi-conscious,  action  is  replaced  by 
reasoned  action  —  in  plainer  words,  whenever  I 
begin  to  think  about  my  movements  —  I  always 
blunder.  It  is  only  while  I  am  thinking  of  other 
matters,  —  only  while  I  am  acting  almost  auto 
matically, —  that  I  can  thread  a  dense  crowd 
with  ease.  Indeed,  my  personal  experience  has 
convinced  me  that  what  pilots  one  quickly  and 
safely  through  a  thick  press  is  not  conscious 
observation  at  all,  but  unreasoning,  intuitive 
perception.  Now  intuitive  action  of  any  kind 
represents  inherited  knowledge,  the  experience 
of  past  lives, —  in  this  case  the  experience  of 
past  lives  incalculable. 

Utterly  incalculable.  .  .  .  Why  do  I  think  so  ? 
Well,  simply  because  this  faculty  of  intuitive 

14 


210  Shadowings 

self-direction  in  a  crowd  is  shared  by  man  with 
very  inferior  forms  of  animal  being,  —  evolu 
tional  proof  that  it  must  be  a  faculty  im 
mensely  older  than  man.  Does  not  a  herd  of 
cattle,  a  herd  of  deer,  a  flock  of  sheep,  offer  us 
the  same  phenomenon  of  mutual  yielding  ?  Or 
a  flock  of  birds  —  gregarious  birds  especially: 
crows,  sparrows,  wild  pigeons?  Or  a  shoal  of 
fish  ?  Even  among  insects  —  bees,  ants,  termites 

—  we  can  study  the  same  law  of  intuitive  self- 
displacement.    The  yielding,  in  all  these  cases, 
must  still  represent  an  inherited  experience  un 
imaginably  old.    Could  we  endeavor  to  retrace 
the  whole  course  of  such  inheritance,  the  attempt 
would  probably  lead  us  back,  not  only  to  the 
very  beginnings  of  sentient  life  upon  this  planet, 
but  further,  —  back  into  the  history  of  non-sen 
tient  substance,  —  back  even  to  the  primal  evolu 
tion  of  those  mysterious  tendencies  which  are 
stored  up  in  the  atoms  of  elements.    Such  atoms 
we  know  of  only  as  points  of  multiple  resistance, 

—  incomprehensible  knittings  of  incomprehensi 
ble  forces.    Even  the  tendencies  of  atoms  doubt 
less  represent  accumulations  of  inheritance 

but  here  thought  checks  with  a  shock  at  the 
eternal  barrier  of  the  Infinite  Riddle. 


Gothic  Horror 
9 


Gothic  Horror 


i 

LONG  before  I  had  arrived  at  what  cate 
chisms  call  the  age  of  reason,  I  was  fre 
quently  taken,  much  against  my  will,  to 
church.  The  church  was  very  old;  and  I  can 
see  the  interior  of  it  at  this  moment  just  as  plainly 
as  I  saw  it  forty  years  ago,  when  it  appeared  to 
me  like  an  evil  dream.  There  I  first  learned  to 
know  the  peculiar  horror  that  certain  forms  of 
Gothic  architecture  can  inspire.  ...  I  am  using 
the  word  "  horror  "  in  a  classic  sense,  —  in  its 
antique  meaning  of  ghostly  fear. 

On  the  very  first  day  of  this  experience,  my 
child -fancy  could  place  the  source  of  the  horror. 
The  wizened  and  pointed  shapes  of  the  windows 
immediately  terrified  me.  In  their  outline  I  found 
the  form  of  apparitions  that  tormented  me  in 
213 


214  Shadowings 

sleep ;  —  and  at  once  I  began  to  imagine  some 
dreadful  affinity  between  goblins  and  Gothic 
churches.  Presently,  in  the  tall  doorways,  in  the 
archings  of  the  aisles,  in  the  ribbings  and  groin- 
ings  of  the  roof,  I  discovered  other  and  wilder 
suggestions  of  fear.  Even  the  facade  of  the 
organ,  —  peaking  high  into  the  shadow  above  its 
gallery,  —  seemed  to  me  a  frightful  thing.  .  .  . 
Had  I  been  then  suddenly  obliged  to  answer  the 
question,  "  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  "  I  should 
have  whispered,  "  Those  points  !  "  I  could  not 
have  otherwise  explained  the  matter:  I  only 
knew  that  I  was  afraid  of  the  "points." 

Of  course  the  real  enigma  of  what  I  felt  in 
that  church  could  not  present  itself  to  my  mind 
while  I  continued  to  believe  in  goblins.  But  long 
after  the  age  of  superstitious  terrors,  other  Gothic 
experiences  severally  revived  the  childish  emotion 
in  so  startling  a  way  as  to  convince  me  that 
childish  fancy  could  not  account  for  the  feeling. 
Then  my  curiosity  was  aroused ;  and  I  tried  to 
discover  some  rational  cause  for  the  horror.  I 
read  many  books,  and  asked  many  questions; 
but  the  mystery  seemed  only  to  deepen. 

Books  about  architecture  were  very  disappoint 
ing.  I  was  much  less  impressed  by  what  I  could 


Gothic  Horror  21? 

find  in  them  than  by  references  in  pure  fiction  to 
the  awfulness  of  Gothic  art,  —  particularly  by 
one  writer's  confession  that  the  interior  of  a 
Gothic  church,  seen  at  night,  gave  him  the  idea 
of  being  inside  the  skeleton  of  some  monstrous 
animal ;  and  by  a  far-famed  comparison  of  the 
windows  of  a  cathedral  to  eyes,  and  of  its  door 
to  a  great  mouth,  "  devouring  the  people." 
These  imaginations  explained  little;  they  could 
not  be  developed  beyond  the  phase  of  vague 
intimation:  yet  they  stirred  such  emotional 
response  that  I  felt  sure  they  had  touched  some 
truth.  Certainly  the  architecture  of  a  Gothic 
cathedral  offers  strange  resemblances  to  the  archi 
tecture  of  bone ;  and  the  general  impression  that 
it  makes  upon  the  mind  is  an  impression  of  life. 
But  this  impression  or  sense  of  life  I  found  to  be 
indefinable,  —  not  a  sense  of  any  life  organic, 
but  of  a  life  latent  and  daemonic.  And  the  mani 
festation  of  that  life  I  felt  to  be  in  the  pointing  of 
the  structure. 

Attempts  to  interpret  the  emotion  by  effects  of 
altitude  and  gloom  and  vastness  appeared  to  me 
of  no  worth ;  for  buildings  loftier  and  larger  and 
darker  than  any  Gothic  cathedral,  but  of  a  dif 
ferent  order  of  architecture,  —  Egyptian,  for 


216  Shadowings 

instance, — could  not  produce  a  like  impression. 
I  felt  certain  that  the  horror  was  made  by  some 
thing  altogether  peculiar  to  Gothic  construction, 
and  that  this  something  haunted  the  tops  of  the 
arches. 

"  Yes,  Gothic  architecture  is  awful,"  said  a 
religious  friend,  "  because  it  is  the  visible  expres 
sion  of  Christian  faith.  No  other  religious 
architecture  symbolizes  spiritual  longing;  but 
the  Gothic  embodies  it.  Every  part  climbs  or 
leaps ;  every  supreme  detail  soars  and  points  like 
fire.  .  .  ."  "  There  may  be  considerable  truth  in 
what  you  say,"  I  replied ;  —  "  but  it  does  not  relate 
to  the  riddle  that  baffles  me.  Why  should  shapes 
that  symbolize  spiritual  longing  create  horror? 
Why  should  any  expression  of  Christian  ecstasy 
inspire  alarm  ?  .  .  ." 

Other  hypotheses  in  multitude  I  tested  without 
avail ;  and  I  returned  to  the  simple  and  savage 
conviction  that  the  secret  of  the  horror  somehow 
belonged  to  the  points  of  the  archings.  But  for 
years  I  could  not  find  it.  At  last,  at  last,  in  the 
early  hours  of  a  certain  tropical  morning,  it 
revealed  itself  quite  unexpectedly,  while  I  was 
looking  at  a  glorious  group  of  palms. 


Gothic  Horror  217 

Then  I  wondered  at  my  stupidity  in  not  having 
guessed  the  riddle  before. 


II 

THE  characteristics  of  many  kinds  of  palm  have 
been  made  familiar  by  pictures  and  photographs. 
But  the  giant  palms  of  the  American  tropics  can 
not  be  adequately  represented  by  the  modern 
methods  of  pictorial  illustration:  they  must  be 
seen.  You  cannot  draw  or  photograph  a  palm 
two  hundred  feet  high. 

The  first  sight  of  a  group  of  such  forms,  in 
their  natural  environment  of  tropical  forest,  is  a 
magnificent  surprise,  —  a  surprise  that  strikes  you 
dumb.  Nothing  seen  in  temperate  zones,  —  not 
even  the  huger  growths  of  the  Calif ornian  slope, 
—  could  have  prepared  your  imagination  for  the 
weird  solemnity  of  that  mighty  colonnade.  Each 
stone-grey  trunk  is  a  perfect  pillar,  —  but  a  pillar 
of  which  the  stupendous  grace  has  no  counterpart 
in  the  works  of  man.  You  must  strain  your 
head  well  back  to  follow  the  soaring  of  the  pro 
digious  column,  up,  up,  up  through  abysses  of 
green  twilight,  till  at  last — far  beyond  a  break  in 
that  infinite  interweaving  of  limbs  and  lianas 


218  Shadowings 

which  is  the  roof  of  the  forest  —  you  catch  one 
dizzy  glimpse  of  the  capital :  a  parasol  of  emerald 
feathers  outspread  in  a  sky  so  blinding  as  to  sug 
gest  the  notion  of  azure  electricity. 

Now  what  is  the  emotion  that  such  a  vision 
excites,  —  an  emotion  too  powerful  to  be  called 
wonder,  too  weird  to  be  called  delight?  Only 
when  the  first  shock  of  it  has  passed,  —  when  the 
several  elements  that  were  combined  in  it  have 
begun  to  set  in  motion  widely  different  groups  of 
ideas,  —  can  you  comprehend  how  very  complex 
it  must  have  been.  Many  impressions  belonging 
to  personal  experience  were  doubtless  revived  in 
it,  but  also  with  them  a  multitude  of  sensations 
more  shadowy,  —  accumulations  of  organic  mem 
ory  ;  possibly  even  vague  feelings  older  than  man, 
—  for  the  tropical  shapes  that  aroused  the  emotion 
have  a  history  more  ancient  than  our  race. 

One  of  the  first  elements  of  the  emotion  to 
become  clearly  distinguishable  is  the  aesthetic; 
and  this,  in  its  general  mass,  might  be  termed  the 
sense  of  terrible  beauty.  Certainly  the  spectacle 
of  that  unfamiliar  life,  —  silent,  tremendous, 
springing  to  the  sun  in  colossal  aspiration,  striv 
ing  for  light  against  Titans,  and  heedless  of  man 


Gothic  Horror  219 

in  the  gloom  beneath  as  of  a  groping  beetle,  — 
thrills  like  the  rhythm  of  some  single  marvellous 
verse  that  is  learned  in  a  glance  and  remembered 
forever.  Yet  the  delight,  even  at  its  vividest,  is 
shadowed  by  a  queer  disquiet.  The  aspect  of 
that  monstrous,  pale,  naked,  smooth-stretching 
column  suggests  a  life  as  conscious  as  the  ser 
pent's.  You  stare  at  the  towering  lines  of  the 
shape,  —  vaguely  fearing  to  discern  some  sign  of 
stealthy  movement,  some  beginning  of  undula 
tion.  Then  sight  and  reason  combine  to  correct 
the  suspicion.  Yes,  motion  is  there,  and  life 
enormous  —  but  a  life  seeking  only  sun,  —  life, 
rushing  like  the  jet  of  a  geyser,  straight  to  the 
giant  day. 

Ill 

DURING  my  own  experience  I  could  perceive 
that  certain  feelings  commingled  in  the  wave  of 
delight,  —  feelings  related  to  ideas  of  power  and 
splendor  and  triumph,  —  were  accompanied  by  a 
faint  sense  of  religious  awe.  Perhaps  our  modern 
aesthetic  sentiments  are  so  interwoven  with  vari 
ous  inherited  elements  of  religious  emotionalism 
that  the  recognition  of  beauty  cannot  arise  hide- 


220  Shadowings 

pendently  of  reverential  feeling.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  such  a  feeling  defined  itself  while  I  gazed ; 
—  and  at  once  the  great  grey  trunks  were  changed 
to  the  pillars  of  a  mighty  aisle ;  and  from  attitudes 
of  dream  there  suddenly  descended  upon  me  the 
old  dark  thrill  of  Gothic  horror. 

Even  before  it  died  away,  I  recognized  that  it 
must  have  been  due  to  some  old  cathedral, 
memory  revived  by  the  vision  of  those  giant 
trunks  uprising  into  gloom.  But  neither  the 
height  nor  the  gloom  could  account  for  anything 
beyond  the  memory.  Columns  tall  as  those 
palms,  but  supporting  a  classic  entablature,  could 
evoke  no  sense  of  disquiet  resembling  the  Gothic 
horror.  I  felt  sure  of  this,  —  because  I  was  able, 
without  any  difficulty,  to  shape  immediately  the 
imagination  of  such  a  facade.  But  presently  the 
mental  picture  distorted.  I  saw  the  architrave 
elbow  upward  in  each  of  the  spaces  between  the 
pillars,  and  curve  and  point  itself  into  a  range  of 
prodigious  arches ;  —  and  again  the  sombre  thrill 
descended  upon  me.  Simultaneously  there  flashed 
to  me  the  solution  of  the  mystery.  I  understood 
that  the  Gothic  horror  was  a  horror  of  monstrous 
motion,  —  and  that  it  had  seemed  to  belong  to 
the  points  of  the  arches  because  the  idea  of  such 


Gothic  Horror  221 

motion  was  chiefly  suggested  by  the  extraordi 
nary  angle  at  which  the  curves  of  the  arching 
touched. 

To  any  experienced  eye,  the  curves  of  Gothic 
arching  offer  a  striking  resemblance  to  certain 
curves  of  vegetal  growth;  —  the  curves  of  the 
palm-branch  being,  perhaps,  especially  suggested. 
But  observe  that  the  architectural  form  suggests 
more  than  any  vegetal  comparison  could  illus 
trate  !  The  meeting  of  two  palm -crests  would 
indeed  form  a  kind  of  Gothic  arch;  yet  the 
effect  of  so  short  an  arch  would  be  insignificant. 
For  nature  to  repeat  the  strange  impression  of 
the  real  Gothic  arch,  it  were  necessary  that  the 
branches  of  the  touching  crests  should  vastly 
exceed,  both  in  length  of  curve  and  strength  of 
spring,  anything  of  their  kind  existing  in  the 
vegetable  world.  The  effect  of  the  Gothic  arch 
depends  altogether  upon  the  intimation  of  energy. 
An  arch  formed  by  the  intersection  of  two  short 
sprouting  lines  could  suggest  only  a  feeble  power 
of  growth;  but  the  lines  of  the  tall  medieval 
arch  seem  to  express  a  crescent  force  immensely 
surpassing  that  of  nature.  And  the  horror  of 
Gothic  architecture  is  not  in  the  mere  suggestion 


222  Shadowings 

of  a  growing  life,  but  in  the  suggestion  of  an 
energy  supernatural  and  tremendous. 

Of  course  the  child,  oppressed  by  the  strange- 
ness  of  Gothic  forms,  is  yet  incapable  of  analyzing 
the  impression  received :  he  is  frightened  without 
comprehending.  He  cannot  divine  that  the  points 
and  the  curves  are  terrible  to  him  because  they  rep 
resent  the  prodigious  exaggeration  of  a  real  law  of 
vegetal  growth.  He  dreads  the  shapes  because 
they  seem  alive ;  yet  he  does  not  know  how  to 
express  this  dread.  Without  suspecting  why,  he 
feels  that  this  silent  manifestation  of  power, 
everywhere  pointing  and  piercing  upward,  is  not 
natural.  To  his  startled  imagination,  the  build 
ing  stretches  itself  like  a  phantasm  of  sleep, — 
makes  itself  tall  and  taller  with  intent  to  frighten. 
Even  though  built  by  hands  of  men,  it  has  ceased 
to  be  a  mass  of  dead  stone:  it  is  infused  with 
Something  that  thinks  and  threatens; — it  has 
become  a  shadowing  malevolence,  a  multiple 
goblinry,  a  monstrous  fetish ! 


Levitation 


Levitation 

r 

OUT  of  some  upper-story  window  I  was 
looking  into  a  street  of  yellow-tinted 
houses, — a  colonial  street,  old-fashioned, 
narrow,  with    palm -heads    showing    above    its 
roofs  of  tile.    There  were  no  shadows ;    there 
was  no  sun,  —  only  a  grey  soft  light,  as  of  early 
gloaming. 

Suddenly  I  found  myself  falling  from  the  win 
dow  ;  and  my  heart  gave  one  sickening  leap  of 
terror.  But  the  distance  from  window  to  pave 
ment  proved  to  be  much  greater  than  I  supposed, 
—  so  great  that,  in  spite  of  my  fear,  I  began  to 
wonder.  Still  I  kept  falling,  falling,  —  and  still 
the  dreaded  shock  did  not  come.  Then  the  fear 
ceased,  and  a  queer  pleasure  took  its  place ;  — 
for  I  discovered  that  I  was  not  falling  quickly, 
but  only  floating  down.  Moreover,  I  was  float 
ing  feet  foremost  —  must  have  turned  in  descend- 
15  225 


226  Shadowings 

ing.  At  last  I  touched  the  stones  —  but  very, 
very  lightly,  with  only  one  foot ;  and  instantly 
at  that  touch  I  went  up  again,  —  rose  to  the 
level  of  the  eaves.  People  stopped  to  stare  at 
me.  I  felt  the  exultation  of  power  superhuman  ; 
—  I  felt  for  the  moment  as  a  god. 

Then  softly  I  began  to  sink ;  and  the  sight  of 
faces,  gathering  below  me,  prompted  a  sudden 
resolve  to  fly  down  the  street,  over  the  heads  of 
the  gazers.  Again  like  a  bubble  I  rose,  and,  with 
the  same  impulse,  1  sailed  in  one  grand  curve  to  a 
distance  that  astounded  me.  I  felt  no  wind  ;  — 
I  felt  nothing  but  the  joy  of  motion  triumphant. 
Once  more  touching  pavement,  I  soared  at  a 
bound  for  a  thousand  yards.  Then,  reaching 
the  end  of  the  street,  I  wheeled  and  came  back 
by  great  swoops,  —  by  long  slow  aerial  leaps  of 
surprising  altitude.  In  the  street  there  was  dead 
silence :  many  people  were  looking ;  but  nobody 
spoke.  I  wondered  what  they  thought  of  my 
feat,  and  what  they  would  say  if  they  knew 
how  easily  the  thing  was  done.  By  the  merest 
chance  I  had  found  out  how  to  do  it;  and  the 
only  reason  why  it  seemed  a  feat  was  that  no 
one  else  had  ever  attempted  it.  Instinctively  I 
felt  that  to  say  anything  about  the  accident,  which 


Levitation  227 

had  led  to  the  discovery,  would  be  imprudent. 
Then  the  real  meaning  of  the  strange  hush  in 
the  street  began  to  dawn  upon  me.  I  said  to 
myself :  — 

"  This  silence  is  the  Silence  of  Dreams ;  —  I  am 
quite  well  aware  that  this  is  a  dream.  I  remem 
ber  having  dreamed  the  same  dream  before.  But 
the  discovery  of  this  power  is  not  a  dream :  it  is 
a  revelation!  .  .  .  Now  that  I  have  learned 
how  to  fly,  I  can  no  more  forget  it  than  a  swim 
mer  can  forget  how  to  swim.  To-morrow  morn 
ing  I  shall  astonish  the  people,  by  sailing  over  the 
roofs  of  the  town." 

Morning  came ;  and  I  woke  with  the  fixed  re 
solve  to  fly  out  of  the  window.  But  no  sooner 
had  I  risen  from  bed  than  the  knowledge  of  phys 
ical  relations  returned,  like  a  sensation  forgotten, 
and  compelled  me  to  recognize  the  unwelcome 
truth  that  I  had  not  made  any  discovery  at  all. 

This  was  neither  the  first  nor  the  last  of  such 
dreams ;  but  it  was  particularly  vivid,  and  I  there 
fore  selected  it  for  narration  as  a  good  example 
of  its  class.  I  still  fly  occasionally,  —  sometimes 
over  fields  and  streams,  —  sometimes  through 
familiar  streets ;  and  the  dream  is  invariably 


228  Shadowings 

accompanied  by  remembrance  of  like  dreams 
in  the  past,  as  well  as  by  the  conviction  that  I 
have  really  found  out  a  secret,  really  acquired  a 
new  faculty.  "  This  time,  at  all  events,"  I  say 
to  myself,  "it  is  impossible  that  I  can  be  mis 
taken  ;  —  I  know  that  I  shall  be  able  to  fly  after 
I  awake.  Many  times  before,  in  other  dreams,  I 
learned  the  secret  only  to  forget  it  on  awakening  ; 
but  this  time  I  am  absolutely  sure  that  I  shall  not 
forget."  And  the  conviction  actually  stays  with 
me  until  I  rise  from  bed,  when  the  physical  effort 
at  once  reminds  me  of  the  formidable  reality  of 
gravitation. 

The  oddest  part  of  this  experience  is  the  feel 
ing  of  buoyancy.  It  is  much  like  the  feeling  of 
floating,  —  of  rising  or  sinking  through  tepid 
water,  for  example ;  —  and  there  is  no  sense  of 
real  effort.  It  is  a  delight ;  yet  it  usually  leaves 
something  to  be  desired.  I  am  a  low  flyer ;  I  can 
proceed  only  like  a  pteromys  or  a  flying-fish  — 
and  far  less  quickly:  moreover,  I  must  tread 
earth  occasionally  in  order  to  obtain  a  fresh 
impulsion.  I  seldom  rise  to  a  height  of  more 
than  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet;  —  the  greater 
part  of  the  time  I  am  merely  skimming  sur- 


Levitation  229 

faces.  Touching  the  ground  only  at  intervals 
of  several  hundred  yards  is  pleasant  skimming; 
but  I  always  feel,  in  a  faint  and  watery  way,  the 
dead  pull  of  the  world  beneath  me. 

Now  the  experience  of  most  dream -flyers  I 
find  to  be  essentially  like  my  own.  I  have  met 
but  one  who  claims  superior  powers:  he  says 
that  he  flies  over  mountains  —  goes  sailing  from 
peak  to  peak  like  a  kite.  All  others  whom  I 
have  questioned  acknowledge  that  they  fly  low, 
—  in  long  parabolic  curves,  —  and  this  only  by 
touching  ground  from  time  to  time.  Most  of 
them  also  tell  me  that  their  flights  usually  begin 
with  an  imagined  fall,  or  desperate  leap  ;  and  no 
less  than  four  say  that  the  start  is  commonly 
taken  from  the  top  of  a  stairway. 

*  * 

For  myriads  of  years  humanity  has  thus  been 
flying  by  night.  How  did  the  fancied  motion, 
having  so  little  in  common  with  any  experience 
of  active  life,  become  a  universal  experience  of 
the  life  of  sleep  ? 

It  may  be  that  memory -impressions  of  certain 
kinds  of  aerial  motion,  —  exultant  experiences  of 
leaping  or  swinging,  for  example,  —  are  in  dream- 


230  Shadowings 

revival  so  magnified  and  prolonged  as  to  create 
the  illusion  of  flight.  We  know  that  in  actual 
time  the  duration  of  most  dreams  is  very  brief. 
But  in  the  half -life  of  sleep  —  (nightmare  offering 
some  startling  exceptions) — there  is  scarcely  more 
than  a  faint  smouldering  of  consciousness  by 
comparison  with  the  quick  flash  and  vivid  thrill 
of  active  cerebration ;  —  and  time,  to  the  dream 
ing  brain,  would  seem  to  be  magnified,  somewhat 
as  it  must  be  relatively  magnified  to  the  feeble 
consciousness  of  an  insect.  Supposing  that  any 
memory  of  the  sensation  of  falling,  together 
with  the  memory  of  the  concomitant  fear,  should 
be  accidentally  revived  in  sleep,  the  dream-pro 
longation  of  the  sensation  and  the  emotion  — 
unchecked  by  the  natural  sequence  of  shock 
—  might  suffice  to  revive  other  and  even  pleasur 
able  memories  of  airy  motion.  And  these,  again, 
might  quicken  other  combinations  of  interrelated 
memories  able  to  furnish  all  the  incident  and 
scenery  of  the  long  phantasmagoria. 

But  this  hypothesis  will  not  fully  explain  cer 
tain  feelings  and  ideas  of  a  character  different 
from  any  experience  of  waking-hours,  —  the  ex 
ultation  of  voluntary  motion  without  exertion,  — 
the  pleasure  of  the  utterly  impossible,  —  the 


Levitation  231 

ghostly  delight  of  imponderability.  Neither  can 
it  serve  to  explain  other  dream -experiences  of 
levitation  which  do  not  begin  with  the  sensation 
of  leaping  or  falling,  and  are  seldom  of  a  pleas 
urable  kind.  For  example,  it  sometimes  happens 
during  nightmare  that  the  dreamer,  deprived  of 
all  power  to  move  or  speak,  actually  feels  his 
body  lifted  into  the  air  and  floated  away  by  the 
force  of  the  horror  within  him.  Again,  there  are 
dreams  in  which  the  dreamer  has  no  physical 
being.  I  have  thus  found  myself  without  any 
body,  —  a  viewless  and  voiceless  phantom,  hov 
ering  upon  a  mountain -road  in  twilight  time,  and 
trying  to  frighten  lonely  folk  by  making  small 
moaning  noises.  The  sensation  was  of  moving 
through  the  air  by  mere  act  of  will :  there  was 
no  touching  of  surfaces ;  and  I  seemed  to  glide 
always  about  a  foot  above  the  road. 

Could  the  feeling  of  dream -flight  be  partly 
interpreted  by  organic  memory  of  conditions  of 
life  more  ancient  than  man,  —  life  weighty,  and 
winged,  and  flying  heavily,  a  little  above  the 
ground  ? 

Or  might  we  suppose  that  some  all -permeating 
Over-Soul,  dormant  in  other  time,  wakens  with- 


232  Shadowings 

in  the  brain  at  rare  moments  of  our  sleep-life  ? 
The  limited  human  consciousness  has  been  beau 
tifully  compared  to  the  visible  solar  spectrum, 
above  and  below  which  whole  zones  of  colors 
invisible  await  the  evolution  of  superior  senses ; 
and  mystics  aver  that  something  of  the  ultra 
violet  or  infra-red  rays  of  the  vaster  Mind  may 
be  momentarily  glimpsed  in  dreams.  Certainly 
the  Cosmic  Life  in  each  of  us  has  been  all  things 
in  all  forms  of  space  and  time.  Perhaps  you  would 
like  to  believe  that  it  may  bestir,  in  slumber,  some 
vague  sense-memory  of  things  more  ancient  than 
the  sun,  —  memory  of  vanished  planets  with 
fainter  powers  of  gravitation,  where  the  normal 
modes  of  voluntary  motion  would  have  been  like 
the  realization  of  our  flying  dreams  ?  .  .  . 


Nightmare-Touch 


Nightmare-Touch 


WHAT  is  the  fear  of  ghosts  among  those 
who  believe  in  ghosts  ? 

All  fear  is  the  result  of  experience, 
—  experience  of  the  individual  or  of  the  race,  — 
experience  either  of  the  present  life  or  of  lives  for 
gotten.  Even  the  fear  of  the  unknown  can  have 
no  other  origin.  And  the  fear  of  ghosts  must  be 
a  product  of  past  pain. 

Probably  the  fear  of  ghosts,  as  well  as  the  be 
lief  in  them,  had  its  beginning  in  dreams.  It  is  a 
peculiar  fear.  No  other  fear  is  so  intense;  yet 
none  is  so  vague.  Feelings  thus  voluminous  and 
dim  are  super-individual  mostly,  —  feelings  in 
herited, —  feelings  made  within  us  by  the  ex 
perience  of  the  dead. 
What  experience? 

235 


2}6  Shadowings 

Nowhere  do  I  remember  reading  a  plain  state 
ment  of  the  reason  why  ghosts  are  feared.  Ask 
any  ten  intelligent  persons  of  your  acquaintance, 
who  remember  having  once  been  afraid  of  ghosts, 
to  tell  you  exactly  why  they  were  afraid,  —  to 
define  the  fancy  behind  the  fear  ;  —  and  I  doubt 
whether  even  one  will  be  able  to  answer  the  ques 
tion.  The  literature  of  folk-lore  —  oral  and  writ 
ten —  throws  no  clear  light  upon  the  subject. 
We  find,  indeed,  various  legends  of  men  torn 
asunder  by  phantoms ;  but  such  gross  imagin 
ings  could  not  explain  the  peculiar  quality  of 
ghostly  fear.  It  is  not  a  fear  of  bodily  violence. 
It  is  not  even  a  reasoning  fear,  —  not  a  fear  that 
can  readily  explain  itself,  —  which  would  not  be 
the  case  if  it  were  founded  upon  definite  ideas  of 
physical  danger.  Furthermore,  although  primi 
tive  ghosts  may  have  been  imagined  as  capable 
of  tearing  and  devouring,  the  common  idea  of  a 
ghost  is  certainly  that  of  a  being  intangible  and 
imponderable.1 

1  I  may  remark  here  that  in  many  old  Japanese  legends 
and  ballads,  ghosts  are  represented  as  having  power  to  pull 
off  people's  heads.  But  so  far  as  the  origin  of  the  fear  of 
ghosts  is  concerned,  such  stories  explain  nothing,  —  since 
the  experiences  that  evolved  the  fear  must  have  been  real, 
not  imaginary,  experiences. 


Nightmare-Touch  2?  7 

Now  I  venture  to  state  boldly  that  the  common 
fear  of  ghosts  is  the  fear  of  being  touched  by 
ghosts,  —  or,  in  other  words,  that  the  imagined 
Supernatural  is  dreaded  mainly  because  of  its  im 
agined  power  to  touch.  Only  to  touch,  remem 
ber  !  —  not  to  wound  or  to  kill. 

But  this  dread  of  the  touch  would  itself  be 
the  result  of  experience,  —  chiefly,  I  think,  of 
prenatal  experience  stored  up  in  the  individual 
by  inheritance,  like  the  child's  fear  of  darkness. 
And  who  can  ever  have  had  the  sensation  of 
being  touched  by  ghosts?  The  answer  is 
simple:  —  Everybody  who  has  been  seized  by 
phantoms  in  a  dream. 

Elements  of  primeval  fears  —  fears  older  than 
humanity  —  doubtless  enter  into  the  child-terror 
of  darkness.  But  the  more  definite  fear  of  ghosts 
may  very  possibly  be  composed  with  inherited 
results  of  dream-pain,  —  ancestral  experience  of 
nightmare.  And  the  intuitive  terror  of  super 
natural  touch  can  thus  be  evolutionally  ex 
plained. 

Let  me  now  try  to  illustrate  my  theory  by 
relating  some  typical  experiences. 


238  Shadowings 


ii 


WHEN  about  five  years  old  I  was  condemned  to 
sleep  by  myself  in  a  certain  isolated  room,  there 
after  always  called  the  Child's  Room.  (At  that 
time  I  was  scarcely  ever  mentioned  by  name,  but 
only  referred  to  as  "  the  Child.")  The  room  was 
narrow,  but  very  high,  and,  in  spite  of  one  tall 
window,  very  gloomy.  It  contained  a  fire-place 
wherein  no  fire  was  ever  kindled ;  and  the  Child 
suspected  that  the  chimney  was  haunted. 

A  law  was  made  that  no  light  should  be  left 
in  the  Child's  Room  at  night,  —  simply  because 
the  Child  was  afraid  of  the  dark.  His  fear  of 
the  dark  was  judged  to  be  a  mental  disorder 
requiring  severe  treatment.  But  the  treatment 
aggravated  the  disorder.  Previously  I  had  been 
accustomed  to  sleep  in  a  well-lighted  room,  with 
a  nurse  to  take  care  of  me.  I  thought  that  I 
should  die  of  fright  when  sentenced  to  lie  alone  in 
the  dark,  and  —  what  seemed  to  me  then  abom 
inably  cruel  —  actually  locked  into  my  room, 
the  most  dismal  room  of  the  house.  Night  after 
night  when  I  had  been  warmly  tucked  into  bed, 
the  lamp  was  removed ;  the  key  clicked  in  the 


Nightmare-Touch  229 

lock ;  the  protecting  light  and  the  footsteps  of 
my  guardian  receded  together.  Then  an  agony 
of  fear  would  come  upon  me.  Something  in  the 
black  air  would  seem  to  gather  and  grow  —  (I 
thought  that  1  could  even  hear  it  grow) — till  I  had 
to  scream.  Screaming  regularly  brought  punish 
ment  ;  but  it  also  brought  back  the  light,  which 
more  than  consoled  for  the  punishment.  This  fact 
being  at  last  found  out,  orders  were  given  to  pay 
no  further  heed  to  the  screams  of  the  Child. 

Why  was  I  thus  insanely  afraid  ?  Partly  be 
cause  the  dark  had  always  been  peopled  for  me 
with  shapes  of  terror.  So  far  back  as  memory 
extended,  I  had  suffered  from  ugly  dreams ;  and 
when  aroused  from  them  I  could  always  see  the 
forms  dreamed  of,  lurking  in  the  shadows  of  the 
room.  They  would  soon  fade  out ;  but  for  sev 
eral  moments  they  would  appear  like  tangible 
realities.  And  they  were  always  the  same  fig 
ures.  .  .  .  Sometimes,  without  any  preface  of 
dreams,  I  used  to  see  them  at  twilight-time,  — 
following  me  about  from  room  to  room,  or 
reaching  long  dim  hands  after  me,  from  story 
to  story,  up  through  the  interspaces  of  the  deep 
stairways. 


240  Shadowings 

I  had  complained  of  these  haunters  only  to  be 
told  that  I  must  never  speak  of  them,  and  that 
they  did  not  exist.  I  had  complained  to  every 
body  in  the  house ;  and  everybody  in  the  house 
had  told  me  the  very  same  thing.  But  there  was 
the  evidence  of  my  eyes!  The  denial  of  that 
evidence  I  could  explain  only  in  two  ways :  — 
Either  the  shapes  were  afraid  of  big  people,  and 
showed  themselves  to  me  alone,  because  I  was 
little  and  weak  ;  or  else  the  entire  household  had 
agreed,  for  some  ghastly  reason,  to  say  what  was 
not  true.  This  latter  theory  seemed  to  me  the 
more  probable  one,  because  I  had  several  times 
perceived  the  shapes  when  I  was  not  unattended  ; 
—  and  the  consequent  appearance  of  secrecy 
frightened  me  scarcely  less  than  the  visions  did. 
Why  was  I  forbidden  to  talk  about  what  I 
saw,  and  even  heard,— on  creaking  stairways, — 
behind  wavering  curtains  ? 

"  Nothing  will  hurt  you,"  —  this  was  the  mer 
ciless  answer  to  all  my  pleadings  not  to  be  left 
alone  at  night.  But  the  haunters  did  hurt  me. 
Only  —  they  would  wait  until  after  I  had  fallen 
asleep,  and  so  into  their  power,  —  for  they  pos 
sessed  occult  means  of  preventing  me  from  rising 
or  moving  or  crying  out. 


Nightmare-Touch  241 

Needless  to  comment  upon  the  policy  of  lock 
ing  me  up  alone  with  these  fears  in  a  black  room. 
Unutterably  was  I  tormented  in  that  room  — 
for  years!  Therefore  I  felt  relatively  happy 
when  sent  away  at  last  to  a  children's  boarding- 
school,  where  the  haunters  very  seldom  ventured 
to  show  themselves. 

They  were  not  like  any  people  that  I  had  ever 
known.  They  were  shadowy  dark-robed  figures, 
capable  of  atrocious  self-distortion,  —  capable,  for 
instance,  of  growing  up  to  the  ceiling,  and  then 
across  it,  and  then  lengthening  themselves,  head- 
downwards,  along  the  opposite  wall.  Only  their 
faces  were  distinct ;  and  I  tried  not  to  look  at  their 
faces.  I  tried  also  in  my  dreams  —  or  thought 
that  I  tried  —  to  awaken  myself  from  the  sight  of 
them  by  pulling  at  my  eyelids  with  my  fingers ;  but 
the  eyelids  would  remain  closed,  as  if  sealed.  .  .  . 
Many  years  afterwards,  the  frightful  plates  in 
Orfila's  Traite  des  Exhumes,  beheld  for  the  first 
time,  recalled  to  me  with  a  sickening  start  the 
dream -terrors  of  childhood.  But  to  understand  the 
Child's  experience,  you  must  imagine  Orfila's  draw 
ings  intensely  alive,  and  continually  elongating  or 
distorting,  as  in  some  monstrous  anamorphosis. 

16 


242  Shadowings 

Nevertheless  the  mere  sight  of  those  night 
mare-faces  was  not  the  worst  of  the  experiences 
in  the  Child's  Room.  The  dreams  always  be 
gan  with  a  suspicion,  or  sensation  of  something 
heavy  in  the  air,  —  slowly  quenching  will, — 
slowly  numbing  my  power  to  move.  At  such 
times  I  usually  found  myself  alone  in  a  large 
unlighted  apartment ;  and,  almost  simultaneously 
with  the  first  sensation  of  fear,  the  atmosphere 
of  the  room  would  become  suffused,  half-way  to 
the  ceiling,  with  a  sombre-yellowish  glow,  mak 
ing  objects  dimly  visible,  —  though  the  ceiling 
itself  remained  pitch-black.  This  was  not  a  true 
appearance  of  light:  rather  it  seemed  as  if  the 
black  air  were  changing  color  from  beneath.  .  .  . 
Certain  terrible  aspects  of  sunset,  on  the  eve  of 
storm,  offer  like  effects  of  sinister  color.  .  .  . 
Forthwith  I  would  try  to  escape,  —  (feeling  at 
every  step  a  sensation  as  of  wading) ,  —  and 
would  sometimes  succeed  in  struggling  half-way 
across  the  room ;  —  but  there  I  would  always  find 
myself  brought  to  a  standstill,  —  paralyzed  by 
some  innominable  opposition.  Happy  voices  I 
could  hear  in  the  next  room ;  —  I  could  see  light 
through  the  transom  over  the  door  that  I  had 
vainly  endeavored  to  reach;  —  I  knew  that  one 


Nightmare-Touch  24? 

loud  cry  would  save  me.  But  not  even  by  the 
most  frantic  effort  could  I  raise  my  voice  above 
a  whisper.  .  .  .  And  all  this  signified  only  that 
the  Nameless  was  coming,  —  was  nearing,  —  was 
mounting  the  stairs.  I  could  hear  the  step, — 
booming  like  the  sound  of  a  muffled  drum, — 
and  I  wondered  why  nobody  else  heard  it.  A 
long,  long  time  the  haunter  would  take  to  come, 
—  malevolently  pausing  after  each  ghastly  foot 
fall.  Then,  without  a  creak,  the  bolted  door 
would  open,  —  slowly,  slowly,  —  and  the  thing 
would  enter,  gibbering  soundlessly,  —  and  put 
out  hands,  —  and  clutch  me,  —  and  toss  me  to 
the  black  ceiling,  —  and  catch  me  descending  to 
toss  me  up  again,  and  again,  and  again.  ...  In 
those  moments  the  feeling  was  not  fear:  fear 
itself  had  been  torpified  by  the  first  seizure.  It 
was  a  sensation  that  has  no  name  in  the  language 
of  the  living.  For  every  touch  brought  a  shock 
of  something  infinitely  worse  than  pain,  —  some 
thing  that  thrilled  into  the  innermost  secret  being 
of  me,  —  a  sort  of  abominable  electricity,  dis 
covering  unimagined  capacities  of  suffering  in 
totally  unfamiliar  regions  of  sentiency.  .  .  .  This 
was  commonly  the  work  of  a  single  tormentor ; 
but  I  can  also  remember  having  been  caught  by 


244  Shadowings 

a  group,  and  tossed  from  one  to  another, — 
seemingly  for  a  time  of  many  minutes. 

Ill 

WHENCE  the  fancy  of  those  shapes  ?  I  do  not 
know.  Possibly  from  some  impression  of  fear 
in  earliest  infancy;  possibly  from  some  experi 
ence  of  fear  in  other  lives  than  mine.  That 
mystery  is  forever  insoluble.  But  the  mystery 
of  the  shock  of  the  touch  admits  of  a  definite 
hypothesis. 

First,  allow  me  to  observe  that  the  experience  of 
the  sensation  itself  cannot  be  dismissed  as  "  mere 
imagination."  Imagination  means  cerebral  activ 
ity  :  its  pains  and  its  pleasures  are  alike  insepar 
able  from  nervous  operation,  and  their  physical 
importance  is  sufficiently  proved  by  their  physi 
ological  effects.  Dream-fear  may  kill  as  well  as 
other  fear;  and  no  emotion  thus  powerful  can 
be  reasonably  deemed  undeserving  of  study. 

One  remarkable  fact  in  the  problem  to  be  con 
sidered  is  that  the  sensation  of  seizure  in  dreams 
differs  totally  from  all  sensations  familiar  to 
ordinary  waking  life.  Why  this  differentiation  ? 
How  interpret  the  extraordinary  massiveness  and 
depth  of  the  thrill? 


Nightmare-Touch  24"> 

I  have  already  suggested  that  the  dreamer's 
fear  is  most  probably  not  a  reflection  of  relative 
experience,  but  represents  the  incalculable  total  of 
ancestral  experience  of  dream-fear.  If  the  sum 
of  the  experience  of  active  life  be  transmitted  by 
inheritance,  so  must  likewise  be  transmitted  the 
summed  experience  of  the  life  of  sleep.  And 
in  normal  heredity  either  class  of  transmissions 
would  probably  remain  distinct. 

Now,  granting  this  hypothesis,  the  sensation 
of  dream-seizure  would  have  had  its  beginnings 
in  the  earliest  phases  of  dream-consciousness,  — 
long  prior  to  the  apparition  of  man.  The  first 
creatures  capable  of  thought  and  fear  must  often 
have  dreamed  of  being  caught  by  their  natural 
enemies.  There  could  not  have  been  much 
imagining  of  pain  in  these  primal  dreams.  But 
higher  nervous  development  in  later  forms  of 
being  would  have  been  accompanied  with  larger 
susceptibility  to  dream-pain.  Still  later,  with  the 
growth  of  reasoning-power,  ideas  of  the  super 
natural  would  have  changed  and  intensified  the 
character  of  dream-fear.  Furthermore,  through 
all  the  course  of  evolution,  heredity  would  have 
been  accumulating  the  experience  of  such  feeling. 
Under  those  forms  of  imaginative  pain  evolved 


246  Shadowings 

through  reaction  of  religious  beliefs,  there  would 
persist  some  dim  survival  of  savage  primitive 
fears,  and  again,  under  this,  a  dimmer  but  in 
comparably  deeper  substratum  of  ancient  animal- 
terrors.  In  the  dreams  of  the  modern  child  all 
these  latencies  might  quicken,  —  one  below  an 
other, —  unfathomably,  —  with  the  coming  and 
the  growing  of  nightmare. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  phantasms  of 
any  particular  nightmare  have  a  history  older 
than  the  brain  in  which  they  move.  But  the 
shock  of  the  touch  would  seem  to  indicate  some 
point  of  dream-contact  with  the  total  race -ex 
perience  of  shadowy  seizure.  It  may  be  that 
profundities  of  Self,  —  abysses  never  reached  by 
any  ray  from  the  life  of  sun,  —  are  strangely 
stirred  in  slumber,  and  that  out  of  their  black 
ness  immediately  responds  a  shuddering  of  mem 
ory,  measureless  even  by  millions  of  years. 


Readings  from  a  Dream-book 


Readings  from  a  Dream-book 


OFTEN,  in  the  blind  dead  of  the  night,  I  find 
myself  reading  a  book,  —  a  big  broad 
book,  —  a  dream-book.    By  "  dream- 
book,"  I  do  not  mean  a  book  about  dreams, 
but  a  book  made  of  the  stuff  that  dreams  are 
made  of. 

I  do  not  know  the  name  of  the  book,  nor  the 
name  of  its  author:  I  have  not  been  able  to  see 
the  title-page  ;  and  there  is  no  running  title.  As 
for  the  back  of  the  volume,  it  remains,  —  like  the 
back  of  the  Moon,  —  invisible  forever. 

At  no  time  have  I  touched  the  book  in  any 
way,  —  not  even  to  turn  a  leaf.  Somebody, 
always  viewless,  holds  it  up  and  open  before 
me  in  the  dark  ;  and  I  can  read  it  only  because  it 
is  lighted  by  a  light  that  comes  from  nowhere. 
Above  and  beneath  and  on  either  side  of  the 
book  there  is  darkness  absolute;  but  the  pages 
249 


2?0  Shadowings 

seem  to  retain  the  yellow  glow  of  lamps  that 
once  illuminated  them. 

A  queer  fact  is  that  I  never  see  the  entire  text 
of  a  page  at  once,  though  I  see  the  whole  page 
itself  plainly.  The  text  rises,  or  seems  to  rise, 
to  the  surface  of  the  paper  as  I  gaze,  and  fades 
out  almost  immediately  after  having  been  read. 
By  a  simple  effort  of  will,  I  can  recall  the 
vanished  sentences  to  the  page;  but  they  do 
not  come  back  in  the  same  form  as  before :  they 
seem  to  have  been  oddly  revised  during  the 
interval.  Never  can  I  coax  even  one  fugitive 
line  to  reproduce  itself  exactly  as  it  read  at 
first.  But  I  can  always  force  something  to  re 
turn;  and  this  something  remains  sharply  dis 
tinct  during  perusal.  Then  it  turns  faint  grey, 
and  appears  to  sink  —  as  through  thick  milk  — 
backward  out  of  sight. 

By  regularly  taking  care  to  write  down,  imme 
diately  upon  awakening,  whatever  I  could  remem 
ber  reading  in  the  dream-book,  I  found  myself 
able  last  year  to  reproduce  portions  of  the  text. 
But  the  order  in  which  I  now  present  these 
fragments  is  not  at  all  the  order  in  which  I 
recovered  them.  If  they  seem  to  have  any  inter- 


From  a  Dream-book         2">1 

connection,  this  is  only  because  I  tried  to  arrange 
them  in  what  I  imagined  to  be  the  rational 
sequence.  Of  their  original  place  and  relation,  I 
know  scarcely  anything.  And,  even  regarding 
the  character  of  the  book  itself,  I  have  been  able 
to  discover  only  that  a  great  part  of  it  consists  of 
dialogues  about  the  Unthinkable. 

Fr.  I 

.  .  .  Then  the  Wave  prayed  to  remain  a  wave 
forever. 

The  Sea  made  answer :  — 

"  Nay,  thou  must  break  :  there  is  no  rest  in  me. 
Billions  of  billions  of  times  thou  wilt  rise  again 
to  break,  and  break  to  rise  again." 

The  Wave  complained :  — 

"  I  fear.  Thou  sayest  that  I  shall  rise  again. 
But  when  did  ever  a  wave  return  from  the  place 
of  breaking  ? " 

The  Sea  responded :  — 

"  Times  countless  beyond  utterance  thou  hast 
broken ;  and  yet  thou  art !  Behold  the  myriads  of 
the  waves  that  run  before  thee,  and  the  myriads 
that  pursue  behind  thee  !  —  all  have  been  to  the 
place  of  breaking  times  unspeakable ;  and  thither 


2!>2  Shadowings 

they  hasten  now  to  break  again.  Into  me  they 
melt,  only  to  swell  anew.  But  pass  they  must ; 
for  there  is  not  any  rest  in  me." 

Murmuring,  the  Wave  replied :  — 

"  Shall  I  not  be  scattered  presently  to  mix  with 
the  mingling  of  all  these  myriads  ?  How  should 
I  rise  again  ?  Never,  never  again  can  1  become 
the  same." 

"The  same  thou  never  art,"  returned  the  Sea, 
"  at  any  two  moments  in  thy  running :  perpetual 
change  is  the  law  of  thy  being.  What  is  thine 
*  I'  ?  Always  thou  art  shaped  with  the  sub 
stance  of  waves  forgotten,  —  waves  numberless 
beyond  the  sands  of  the  shores  of  me.  In  thy 
multiplicity  what  art  thou  ?  —  a  phantom,  an 
impermanency ! " 

"Real  is  pain,"  sobbed  the  Wave, —  "and 
fear  and  hope,  and  the  joy  of  the  light.  Whence 
and  what  are  these,  if  I  be  not  real  ? " 

"Thou  hast  no  pain,"  the  Sea  responded,— 
"  nor  fear  nor  hope  nor  joy.  Thou  art  nothing 
—save  in  me.  I  am  thy  Self,  thine  *P:  thy 
form  is  my  dream ;  thy  motion  is  my  will ;  thy 
breaking  is  my  pain.  Break  thou  must,  because 
there  is  no  rest  in  me ;  but  thou  wilt  break  only 
to  rise  again,  —  for  death  is  the  Rhythm  of  Life. 


From  a  Dream-book 

Lo !  I,  too,  die  that  I  may  live :  these  my  waters 
have  passed,  and  will  pass  again,  with  wrecks  of 
innumerable  worlds  to  the  burning  of  innumerable 
suns.  I,  too,  am  multiple  unspeakably:  dead 
tides  of  millions  of  oceans  revive  in  mine  ebb  and 
flow.  Suffice  thee  to  learn  that  only  because 
thou  wast  thou  art,  and  that  because  thou  art  thou 
wilt  become  again." 

Muttered  the  Wave,— 

"  I  cannot  understand.'* 

Answered  the  Sea,  — 

"Thy  part  is  to  pulse  and  pass,  —  never  to 
understand.  I  also, — even  I,  the  great  Sea,  —  do 
not  understand.  .  .  ." 

Fr.  II 

..."  The  stones  and  the  rocks  have  felt ;  the 
winds  have  been  breath  and  speech ;  the  rivers 
and  oceans  of  earth  have  been  locked  into  cham 
bers  of  hearts.  And  the  palingenesis  cannot 
cease  till  every  cosmic  particle  shall  have  passed 
through  the  uttermost  possible  experience  of  the 
highest  possible  life." 

"  But  what  of  the  planetary  core  ?  —  has  that, 
too,  felt  and  thought?" 


Shadowings 

"  Even  so  surely  as  that  all  flesh  has  been  sun- 
fire  !  In  the  ceaseless  succession  of  integrations 
and  dissolutions,  all  things  have  shifted  relation 
and  place  numberless  billions  of  times.  Hearts 
of  old  moons  will  make  the  surface  of  future 
worlds.  ,  ,  ." 


Fr.  Ill 

...  "No  regret  is  vain.  It  is  sorrow  that  spins 
the  thread,  — softer  than  moonshine,  thinner  than 
fragrance,  stronger  than  death,  —  the  Gleipnir- 
chain  of  the  Greater  Memory.  .  .  . 

"  In  millions  of  years  you  will  meet  again ;  — 
and  the  time  will  not  seem  long ;  for  a  million  years 
and  a  moment  are  the  same  to  the  dead.  Then 
you  will  not  be  all  of  your  present  self,  nor  she 
be  all  that  she  has  been:  both  of  you  will  at 
once  be  less,  and  yet  incomparably  more.  Then, 
to  the  longing  that  must  come  upon  you,  body 
itself  will  seem  but  a  barrier  through  which  you 
would  leap  to  her  —  or,  it  may  be,  to  him  ;  for 
sex  will  have  shifted  numberless  times  ere  then. 
Neither  will  remember ;  but  each  will  be  filled 
with  a  feeling  immeasurable  of  having  met 
before.  ,  ,  ." 


From  a  Dream-book 


Fr.  IV 

...  "So  wronging  the  being  who  loves,  — 
the  being  blindly  imagined  but  of  yesterday,— 
this  mocker  mocks  the  divine  in  the  past  of  the 
Soul  of  the  World.  Then  in  that  heart  is  re 
vived  the  countless  million  sorrows  buried  in 
forgotten  graves,  —  all  the  old  pain  of  Love,  in 
its  patient  contest  with  Hate,  since  the  beginning 
of  Time. 

"  And  the  Gods  know,  —  the  dim  ones  who 
dwell  beyond  Space,  —  spinning  the  mysteries 
of  Shape  and  Name.  For  they  sit  at  the  roots 
of  Life ;  and  the  pain  runs  back  to  them ;  and 
they  feel  that  wrong,  —  as  the  Spider  feels  in 
the  trembling  of  her  web  that  a  thread  is 

broken.  .  .  ." 

^ 

Fr.  V 

..."  Love  at  sight  is  the  choice  of  the  dead. 
But  the  most  of  them  are  older  than  ethical 
systems ;  and  the  decision  of  their  majorities  is 
rarely  moral.  They  choose  by  beauty,  —  accord 
ing  to  their  memory  of  physical  excellence  ;  and 


2  £6  Shadowings 

as  bodily  fitness  makes  the  foundation  of  mental 
and  of  moral  power,  they  are  not  apt  to  choose 
ill.  Nevertheless  they  are  sometimes  strangely 
cheated.  They  have  been  known  to  want  beings 
that  could  never  help  ghost  to  a  body,  —  hollow 
goblins.  .  .  ." 

Fr.  VI 

.  .  .  "The  Animulas  making  the  Self  do  not 
fear  death  as  dissolution.  They  fear  death 
only  as  reintegration,  —  recombination  with  the 
strange  and  the  hateful  of  other  lives  :  they 
fear  the  imprisonment,  within  another  body,  of 
that  which  loves  together  with  that  which 
loathes.  .  .  ." 

Fr.  VII 

..."  In  other  time  the  El-Woman  sat  only  in 
waste  places,  and  by  solitary  ways.  But  now 
in  the  shadows  of  cities  she  offers  her  breasts  to 
youth ;  and  he  whom  she  entices,  presently  goes 
mad,  and  becomes,  like  herself,  a  hollowness. 
For  the  higher  ghosts  that  entered  into  the  making 
of  him  perish  at  that  goblin -touch,  —  die  as  the 


From  a  Dream-book 

pupa  dies  in  the  cocoon,  leaving  only  a  shell  and 
dust  behind.  ,   ,  ." 


Fr.    VIII 

.  .  .  The  Man  said  to  the  multitude  remaining 
of  his  Souls :  — 

"  I  am  weary  of  life." 

And  the  remnant  replied  to  him :  — 

"  We  also  are  weary  of  the  shame  and  pain  of 
dwelling  in  so  vile  a  habitation.  Continually  we 
strive  that  the  beams  may  break,  and  the  pillars 
crack,  and  the  roof  fall  in  upon  us." 

"  Surely  there  is  a  curse  upon  me,"  groaned 
the  Man.  "  There  is  no  justice  in  the  Gods !  " 

Then  the  Souls  tumultuously  laughed  in  scorn, 
—  even  as  the  leaves  of  a  wood  in  the  wind  do 
chuckle  all  together.  And  they  made  answer  to 
him:  — 

"  As  a  fool  thou  liest !  Did  any  save  thyself 
make  thy  vile  body  ?  Was  it  shapen  —  or  mis- 
shapen  —  by  any  deeds  or  thoughts  except  thine 
own  ? " 

"No  deed  or  thought  can  I  remember,"  re 
turned  the  Man,  "  deserving  that  which  has  come 
upon  me." 
17 


2">8  Shado  wings 

"Remember!"  laughed  the  Souls.  "No  — 
the  folly  was  in  other  lives.  But  we  remember ; 
and  remembering,  we  hate." 

"  Ye  are  all  one  with  me !  "  cried  the  Man, — 
"  how  can  ye  hate  ? " 

"One  with  thee,"  mocked  the  Souls,  — "as 
the  wearer  is  one  with  his  garment!  .  .  .  How 
can  we  hate  ?  As  the  fire  that  devours  the  wood 
from  which  it  is  drawn  by  the  fire-maker  —  even 
so  we  can  hate." 

"  It  is  a  cursed  world  ! "  cried  the  Man  —  "  why 
did  ye  not  guide  me  ? " 

The  Souls  replied  to  him :  — 

"  Thou  wouldst  not  heed  the  guiding  of  ghosts 
that  were  wiser  than  we.  .  .  .  Cowards  and 
weaklings  curse  the  world.  The  strong  do  not 
blame  the  world:  it  gives  them  all  that  they 
desire.  By  power  they  break  and  take  and 
keep.  Life  for  them  is  a  joy,  a  triumph,  an 
exultation.  But  creatures  without  power  merit 
nothing ;  and  nothingness  becomes  their  portion. 
Thou  and  we  shall  presently  enter  into  noth 
ingness." 

"  Do  ye  fear  ?  " — asked  the  Man. 

"  There  is  reason  for  fear,"  the  Souls  answered. 
"  Yet  no  one  of  us  would  wish  to  delay  the  time 


From  a  Dream-book 

of  what  we  fear  by  continuing  to  make  part  of 
such  an  existence  as  thine." 

"But  ye  have  died  innumerable  times?"  — 
wonderingly  said  the  Man. 

"  No,  we  have  not,"  said  the  Souls,  — "  not 
even  once  that  we  can  remember ;  and  our  mem 
ory  reaches  back  to  the  beginnings  of  this  world. 
We  die  only  with  the  race." 

The  Man  said  nothing,  —  being  afraid.  The 
Souls  resumed :  — 

"Thy  race  ceases.  Its  continuance  depended 
upon  thy  power  to  serve  our  purposes.  Thou 
hast  lost  all  power.  What  art  thou  but  a  charnel- 
house,  a  mortuary- pit  ?  Freedom  we  needed, 
and  space:  here  we  have  been  compacted  to 
gether,  a  billion  to  a  pin-point!  Doorless  our 
chambers  and  blind;  —  and  the  passages  are 
blocked  and  broken ;  —  and  the  stairways  lead  to 
nothing.  Also  there  are  Haunters  here,  not  of 
our  kind,  —  Things  never  to  be  named." 

For  a  little  time  the  Man  thought  gratefully  of 
death  and  dust.  But  suddenly  there  came  into 
his  memory  a  vision  of  his  enemy's  face,  with 
a  wicked  smile  upon  it.  And  then  he  wished 
for  longer  life,  —  a  hundred  years  of  life  and 
pain,  —  only  to  see  the  grass  grow  tall  above  the 


260  Shadowings 

grave  of  that  enemy.    And  the  Souls  mocked  his 
desire :  — 

"Thine  enemy  will  not  waste  much  thought 
upon  thee.  He  is  no  half -man,  —  thine  enemy! 
The  ghosts  in  that  body  have  room  and  great 
light.  High  are  the  ceilings  of  their  habitation ; 
wide  and  clear  the  passageways;  luminous  the 
courts  and  pure.  Like  a  fortress  excellently  gar 
risoned  is  the  brain  of  thine  enemy;  —  and  to 
any  point  thereof  the  defending  hosts  can  be 
gathered  for  battle  in  a  moment  together.  His 
generation  will  not  cease  — nay !  that  face  of  his 
will  multiply  throughout  the  centuries !  Because 
thine  enemy  in  every  time  provided  for  the 
needs  of  his  higher  ghosts :  he  gave  heed  to  their 
warnings ;  he  pleasured  them  in  all  just  ways ; 
he  did  not  fail  in  reverence  to  them.  Wherefore 
they  now  have  power  to  help  him  at  his  need. 
.  .  .  How  hast  thou  reverenced  or  pleasured  us  ? " 

The  Man  remained  silent  for  a  space.  Then,  as 
in  horror  of  doubting,  he  questioned :  — 

"Wherefore  should  ye  fear  —  if  nothingness 
be  the  end?" 

"  What  is  nothingness  ?  "  the  Souls  responded. 
"Only  in  the  language  of  delusion  is  there 


From  a  Dream-book          261 

an  end.  That  which  thou  callest  the  end  is 
in  truth  but  the  very  beginning.  The  essence 
of  us  cannot  cease.  In  the  burning  of  worlds  it 
cannot  be  consumed.  It  will  shudder  in  the 
cores  of  great  stars  ;  —  it  will  quiver  in  the  light 
of  other  suns.  And  once  more,  in  some  future 
cosmos,  it  will  reconquer  knowledge  —  but  only 
after  evolutions  unthinkable  for  multitude.  Even 
out  of  the  nameless  beginnings  of  form,  and 
thence  through  every  cycle  of  vanished  being,  — 
through  all  successions  of  exhausted  pain, — 
through  all  the  Abyss  of  the  Past,  — it  must 
climb  again." 

The  Man  uttered  no  word :  the  Souls  spoke  on :  — 

"For  millions  of  millions  of  ages  must  we 
shiver  in  tempests  of  fire:  then  shall  we  enter 
anew  into  some  slime  primordial,  —  there  to 
quicken,  and  again  writhe  upward  through  all 
foul  dumb  blind  shapes.  Innumerable  the  meta 
morphoses  !  —  immeasurable  the  agonies !  .  .  . 
And  the  fault  is  not  of  any  Gods :  it  is  thine  ! " 

"Good  or  evil,"  muttered  the  Man,  — "what 
signifies  either?  The  best  must  become  as  the 
worst  in  the  grind  of  the  endless  change." 

"  Nay  !  "  cried  out  the  Souls ;  "  for  the  strong 
there  is  a  goal,  —  the  goal  that  thou  couldst  not 


262  Shadowings 

strive  to  gain.  They  will  help  to  the  fashioning 
of  fairer  worlds ; — they  will  win  to  larger  light ; 
—  they  will  tower  and  soar  as  flame  to  enter  the 
Zones  of  the  Divine.  But  thou  and  we  go 
back  to  slime!  Think  of  the  billion  summers 
that  might  have  been  for  us !  —  think  of  the  joys, 
the  loves,  the  triumphs  cast  away !  —  the  dawns 
of  the  knowledge  undreamed,  —  the  glories  of 
sense  unimagined,  — the  exultations  of  illimitable 
power!  .  .  .  think,  think,  O  fool,  of  all  that 
thou  hast  lost !  " 

Then  the  Souls  of  the  Man  turned  themselves 
into  worms,  and  devoured  him. 


In  a  Pair  of  Eyes 


In  a  Pair  of  Eyes 

* 

THERE  is  one  adolescent  moment  never  to 
be  forgotten,  —  the  moment  when  the  boy 
learns  that  this  world  contains  nothing 
more  wonderful  than  a  certain  pair  of  eyes.  At 
first  the  surprise  of  the  discovery  leaves  him 
breathless :  instinctively  he  turns  away  his  gaze. 
That  vision  seemed  too  delicious  to  be  true. 
But  presently  he  ventures  to  look  again,  —  fear 
ing  with  a  new  fear,  —  afraid  of  the  reality,  afraid 
also  of  being  observed ;  —  and  lo !  his  doubt 
dissolves  in  a  new  shock  of  ecstasy.  Those  eyes 
are  even  more  wonderful  than  he  had  imagined 
—  nay !  they  become  more  and  yet  more  en 
trancing  every  successive  time  that  he  looks  at 
them !  Surely  in  all  the  universe  there  cannot 
be  another  such  pair  of  eyes!  What  can  lend 
them  such  enchantment  ?  Why  do  they  appear 
divine  ?  .  .  .  He  feels  that  he  must  ask  some 
body  to  explain,  —  must  propound  to  older  and 
265 


266  Shadowings 

wiser  heads  the  riddle  of  his  new  emotions. 
Then  he  makes  his  confession,  with  a  faint  intui 
tive  fear  of  being  laughed  at,  but  with  a  strange, 
fresh  sense  of  rapture  in  the  telling.  Laughed  at 
he  is  —  tenderly;  but  this  does  not  embarrass 
him  nearly  so  much  as  the  fact  that  he  can  get 
no  answer  to  his  question,  —  to  the  simple 
"  Why  ?  "  made  so  interesting  by  his  frank  sur 
prise  and  his  timid  blushes.  No  one  is  able  to 
enlighten  him ;  but  all  can  sympathize  with  the 
bewilderment  of  his  sudden  awakening  from  the 
long  soul-sleep  of  childhood. 

Perhaps  that  "  Why  ? "  never  can  be  fully  an 
swered.  But  the  mystery  that  prompted  it  con 
stantly  tempts  one  to  theorize ;  and  theories  may 
have  a  worth  independent  of  immediate  results. 
Had  it  not  been  for  old  theories  concerning  the 
Unknowable,  what  should  we  have  been  able  to 
learn  about  the  Knowable  ?  Was  it  not  while 
in  pursuit  of  the  Impossible  that  we  stumbled 
upon  the  undreamed-of  and  infinitely  marvellous 
Possible  ? 

Why  indeed  should  a  pair  of  human  eyes 
appear  for  a  time  to  us  so  beautiful  that,  when 
likening  their  radiance  to  splendor  of  diamond 


In  a  Pair  of  Eyes  267 

or  amethyst  or  emerald,  we  feel  the  comparison 
a  blasphemy  ?  Why  should"  we  find  them  deeper 
than  the  sea,  deeper  than  the  day,— deep  even 
as  the  night  of  Space,  with  its  scintillant  mist  of 
suns  ?  Certainly  not  because  of  mere  wild  fancy. 
These  thoughts,  these  feelings,  must  spring  from 
some  actual  perception  of  the  marvellous,  — 
some  veritable  revelation  of  the  unspeakable. 
There  is,  in  very  truth,  one  brief  hour  of  life 
during  which  the  world  holds  for  us  nothing  so 
wonderful  as  a  pair  of  eyes.  And  then,  while 
looking  into  them,  we  discover  a  thrill  of  awe 
vibrating  through  our  delight,  — awe  made  by 
a  something /£//  rather  than  seen :  a  latency,  —  a 
power,  — a  shadowing  of  depth  unfathomable  as 
the  cosmic  Ether.  It  is  as  though,  through  some 
intense  and  sudden  stimulation  of  vital  being,  we 
had  obtained  —  for  one  supercelestial  moment  — 
the  glimpse  of  a  reality,  never  before  imagined, 
and  never  again  to  be  revealed. 

There  is,  indeed,  an  illusion.  We  seem  to 
view  the  divine ;  but  this  divine  itself,  whereby 
we  are  dazzled  and  duped,  is  a  ghost.  Not  to 
actuality  belongs  the  spell,  — not  to  anything 
that  is,  —  but  to  some  infinite  composite  phan 
tom  of  what  has  been.  Wondrous  the  vision  — 


268  Shadowings 

but  wondrous  only  because  our  mortal  sight  then 
pierces  beyond  the  surface  of  the  present  into 
profundities  of  myriads  of  years,  —  pierces  be 
yond  the  mask  of  life  into  the  enormous  night 
of  death.  For  a  moment  we  are  made  aware  of 
a  beauty  and  a  mystery  and  a  depth  unutterable : 
then  the  Veil  falls  again  forever. 

The  splendor  of  the  eyes  that  we  worship 
belongs  to  them  only  as  brightness  to  the  morn 
ing-star.  It  is  a  reflex  from  beyond  the  shadow 
of  the  Now,  —  a  ghost-light  of  vanished  suns. 
Unknowingly  within  that  maiden- gaze  we  meet 
the  gaze  of  eyes  more  countless  than  the  hosts 
of  heaven,  —  eyes  otherwhere  passed  into  dark 
ness  and  dust. 

Thus,  and  only  thus,  the  depth  of  that  gaze  is 
the  depth  of  the  Sea  of  Death  and  Birth,  —  and 
its  mystery  is  the  World -Soul's  vision,  watching 
us  out  of  the  silent  vast  of  the  Abyss  of  Being. 

Thus,  and  only  thus,  do  truth  and  illusion 
mingle  in  the  magic  of  eyes,  —  the  spectral  past 
suffusing  with  charm  ineffable  the  apparition  of 
the  present;  —  and  the  sudden  splendor  in  the 
soul  of  the  Seer  is  but  a  flash,  —  one  soundless 
sheet-lightning  of  the  Infinite  Memory. 


Exotics  and  Retrospectives 

By  LAFCADIO  HEARN,  Lecturer  on  English  Litera 
ture  in  the  Imperial  University,  Tokyo,  author 
of  "In  Ghostly  Japan,"  "Out  of  the  East," 
"  Glimpses  of  Unfamiliar  Japan,"  etc.  Illustrated. 
I6mo.  Cloth,  gilt  top.  $2.00. 

CONTENTS 

Exotics  Retrospectives 

FUJI-NO-YAMA.  FIRST  IMPRESSIONS. 

INSECT-MUSICIANS.  BEAUTY  IS  MEMORY. 

A  QUESTION  IN  THE  ZEN          SADNESS  IN   BEAUTY. 

TEXTS.  PARFUM  DE  JEUNESSE. 

BUDDHIST  LITERATURE  OF        AZURE  PSYCHOLOGY. 

THE  DEAD.  A  SERENADE. 

FROGS.  A  RED  SUNSET. 

OF  MOON-DESIRE.  FRISSON. 

VESPERTINA  COGNITIO. 

THE  ETERNAL  HAUNTERS. 

If  one  were  to  attempt  any  adequate  quotation,  he  would 
quote  the  entire  book.  It  is  one  to  be  lived  with.  —  Lilian 
Whiting,  in  the  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

It  has  the  deep  azure  coloring  of  Fuji-San,  the  sacred  moun 
tain;  it  utters  the  chirping  note  of  Suzumushi,  the  caged 
insect ;  it  is  as  melodious  as  Kajika,  the  singing  frog,  and  is 
altogether  lovely.  —  Literary  World. 

Full  of  that  wonderful  power  of  vivid  portrayal  and  of 
poetic  fancy  that  makes  his  work  always  unique.  —  New 
Orleans  Picayune. 


EXOTICS  AND  RETROSPECTIVES  -  Continued 

No  foreigner  in  Japan  has  apparently  got  closer  to  the 
people  than  Mr.  Lafcadio  Hearn.  .  .  .  The  part  of  the  book 
which  seems  to  us  most  valuable  contains  interesting  descrip 
tions  of  curious  Japanese  customs,  especially  their  use  of 
caged  insects  as  music-makers.  These  insects  are  figured  in 
the  text  with  a  running  account  of  the  literature  made  about 
them.  Many  bits  of  translation  from  the  works  of  Japanese 
poets,  old  or  recent,  add  to  the  interest.  —  Tbe  Independent. 

Readers  who  care  for  the  essence  of  poetic  feeling  will  find 
it  in  this  paper  on  "  Insect-Musicians,"  and  in  a  shorter  one 
on  "  Frogs."  —  New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

Undoubtedly  the  chief  charm  of  these  exquisite  bits  of  prose 
poetry  [the  Exotics]  lies  in  the  daring  originality  of  the  fancies 
expressed.  Where,  for  instance,  is  there  a  description  of  the 
ascent  of  Fuji  that  can  compare  with  Professor  Hearn's 
"  Fuji-no-Yama  "  ?  —  Public  Opinion. 

If  Mr.  Hearn  were  not  generally  considered  above  criticism 
and  if  it  were  not  a  delight  and  a  genuine  privilege  to  get  hold 
of  anything  of  his  under  any  circumstances,  we  should  express 
a  regret  that  he  had  not  given  us  a  little  more  of  Japan.  — 
Chicago  Times-Herald. 

The  "  Exotics,"  with  the  exception  of  "  Moon-Desire,"  are 
less  fascinating  than  the  "  Retrospectives."  Even  Mr.  Hearn 
cannot  well  make  a  single  country  as  interesting  as  all  space 
and  time,  but  his  description  of  the  ascent  of  "  Fuji-no-Yama  " 
and  of  the  wondrous  view;  the  paper  on  "  Insect-Musicians," 
the  "  Question  in  the  Zen  Texts,"  a  conundrum  much  finer 
than  "The  Lady  and  the  Tiger;  "  "  Frogs,"  and  "  The  Litera 
ture  of  the  Dead,"  are  such  as  no  one  else  could  have  written. 
—  New  York  Times. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 

254  Washington  Street,  Boston 


IN  GHOSTLY  JAPAN 

By  LAFCADIO  HEARN,  author  of  "  Exotics  and 
Retrospectives,"  etc.  Illustrated.  I6mo.  Dec 
orated  cloth,  gilt  top,  $2.00. 


To  read  this  latest  collection  is  to  feel  that  in  some  mys 
terious,  intangible,  quite  inexplicable  way,  you  are  inhaling 
the  very  spirit  of  Japan.  —  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 


CONTENTS 

FRAGMENT 

A  pilgrim  is  pictured  climbing;  a  mountain  of  skulls  reaching  to  the 
clouds,  only  to  be  told  that  the  skulls  have  all  been  his  own  during  the 
billion  of  his  former  lives.  —  Christian  Endeavor  World,  Boston. 

Charms  even  while  the  reader  shudders  and  thrills  at  the  hill  of  skulls.— 
Bookseller,  Chicago. 

FUR1SODE 

We  get  at  some  of  the  richness  of  Japan  folk-lore,  beginning  with  the 
legend  of  the  fateful  robe  furisode.  —  Minneapolis  Journal. 

INCENSE 

Mr.  Hearn  makes  himself  intensely  interesting  in  his  essay  on  "In 
cense." —  Philadelphia  Press. 

A  STORY  OF  DIVINATION 

There  are  curious  glimpses  also  of  the  Japanese  fortune-tellers,  and 
Professor  Hearn  tells  of  one  old  fellow  who  prophesied  certain  things  con 
cerning  himself.  .  .  .  But  the  old  soothsayer  perished  in  a  mountain  storm. 
So  true  is  the  Japanese  proverb:  "The  fortune-teller  knows  not  his  own 
fate.  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

SILKWORMS 

A  charming  bit  of  description,  merging  into  a  brief  sermon  and  finally 
bursting  forth  into  an  allegorical  story.  —  The  Beacon,  Boston. 

A  remarkable  train  of  thought  and  reasoning.  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

A  PASSIONAL  KARMA 

Stands  out  clearly  and  distinctly  from  all  the  rest.  It  is  entitled  "  A 
Passional  Karma,"  and  is  Mr.  Hearn's  version  of  the  Japanese  play,  "  The 
Peony  Lantern."  — Philadelphia  Press. 


IN  GHOSTLY  JAPAN  -  Contents,  continued 
FOOTPRINTS  OF  THE  BUDDHA 

Highly  interesting,  explaining  many  strange  beliefs  in  the  supernatural 
power  of  the  fooprints  to  affect  any  person  seeing  them.  —  The  Beacon 
Boston. 

ULULATION 

Especially  attractive  in  its  delicate  suggestion.  It  relates  to  the  impres 
sion  caused  by  the  night-cries  of  his  house-dog.  —  Baltimore  News. 

BITS  OF  POETRY 

Exquisite,  and  might,  one  would  almost  believe,  lead  to  a  poetic  follow 
ing  among  us  as  marked  and  beneficial  as  that  occasioned  by  Japanese 
artists  among  our  designers  and  painters.  —  JULIAN  HAWTHORNE  in  the 
North  American,  Philadelphia. 

JAPANESE  BUDDHIST  PROVERBS 

Often  humorous  and  always  wise,  many  of  them  new  turnings  of  thoughts 
as  old  as  any  books.  —San  Francisco  Argonaut. 

SUGGESTION 

In  the  little  fragment,  which  he  labels  simply  "  Suggestion,"  he  main 
tains  this  interest,  and  does  it  in  the  easy,  familiar,  well-rounded  style 
which  has  made  his  writings  so  much  liked.  —  Philadelphia  Press. 

INGWA-BANASHI 

A  remarkably  dramatic  tale—  "  Ingwa-banashi."  It  is  so  powerful  that 
the  reader  involuntarily  shudders  before  the  too-short  sketch  is  concluded. 
—  San  Francisco  Bulletin. 

STORY  OF  A  TENGU 

In  Japanese  popular  art,  the  Tengu  are  commonly  represented  either  as 
winged  men  with  beak-shaped  noses  or  as  birds  of  prey.  There  are  differ 
ent  kinds  of  Tensju  ;  but  all  are  supposed  to  be  mountain-haunting  spirits, 
capable  of  assuming  many  forms.  —  Author's  Note. 

AT  YAIDZU 

A  sketch  of  Yatdzu,  an  old  fishing  town.  —  Chicago  Record. 

Makes  a  strong  appeal  to  the  imagination.  Little  rafts  are  launched  on 
the  water,  after  dark,  each  bearing  its  paper  lantern  to  light  the  ghosts  of 
their  last  voyage.  —  GEORGIA  ALLEN  PECK,  in  Providence  Telegram. 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 

254  Washington  Street,  Boston 


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